theological  ^cmiuani, 

'  V 

No.  Case,  ''''')^^ ^  _ 

No,  Shelf,_SecX\ov4^,,,,..  .__^__ 

No.  Book. 

No. 


The  John  M.  Ivr<'bs  Donation. 

I .     - 


BS  477  .H35  1856 
Hamilton,  James,  1814-1867 
Emblems  from  Eden 


EMBLEMS   FROM  EDEN. 


EMBLEMS   FROM   EDEN. 


/ 


BT 


JAMES  HAMILTON,  D.D.,  F.L.S. 


UBRARY  OF  PRINCETON 


SEP      5  2003 


THEOLOGICAL  SEiVilNARY 


NEW  YORK: 

ROBERT    CARTER    &    BROTHERS, 

No.    286    BROADWAY. 


1856. 


A  FEW  of  the  following  Illustrations  have 
already  appeared  in  a  more  fugitive  form; 
and,  now  that  they  are  gathered  together, 
they  are  submitted  to  the  indulgent  perusal 
of  those  who  find  pleasure  in  the  symbolical 
teaching  of  Scripture,  and  to  whom  Nature 
herself  is  more  dear  since  they  found  a  key 
to  her  language  in  the  Lively  Oracles. 

December  22,  I8b^. 


CONTENTS, 


THB  TREE  OP  LIFE            ,             ►             .             ,  1 

THE  VINK        .            .            ^                         ,            .  33 

THE  CEDAR    .*....  6C 

THK  PALM      ......  94 

THE  GARDEN  INCLOSED  .  .  .  .118 

IIAUVF.ST  HOME       .....  134 

TUB    AMARAKTH  ;    OR,   UaMOHTALlTY           .  146 


THE   TREE    OF   LIFE. 


Waking  up  to  conscious  existence  in  tlie 
midst  of  a  garden,  it  would  seem  as  if  man 
had  not  entirely  forgotten  the  wonderful  vision 
on  which  his  eyes  then  opened.  At  least, 
there  is  no  passion  more  general  than  the 
admiration  of  beautiful  flowers.  They  kindle 
the  rapture  of  infancy,  and  it  is  touching  to 
?eo  how  over  the  first  king-cups  or  daisies 
its  tiny  hand  closes  more  eagerly  than  here- 
after it  will  grasp  silver  coins  or  golden. 
Tlie  solitary  blossom  lights  a  lamp  of  quiet 
gladness  in  the  poor  man's  chamber,  and 
in  the  palace  of  the  prince  the  marble  of 
Canova  and  the  canvas  of  Raffiielle  are 
dimmed  by  the  lordly  exotic  with  its  calyx 
of  flame  or  its  petals  of  snow.  With  these 
companions  of  our  departed  innocence  we 
plait  the  bridal   wreath,  and,    scattered  on 

B 


2  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDKN. 

tlie  coffin,  or  planted  on  the  grave,  there 
seems  a  hope  of  resurrection  in  their  smile,  a 
sympathy  in  their  gentle  decay.  And  whilst 
to  the  dullest  gaze  they  speak  a  lively  oracle, 
in  their  empyrean  bloom  and  unearthly  fra- 
grance the  pensive  fancy  recognises  some  mys- 
terious memory,  and  asks, — 

**  Have  we  been  all  at  fault?     Are  we  the  sons 
Of  pilgrim  sires  who  left  their  lovelier  land  ? 
And  do  we  call  inhospitable  climes 
By  names  they  brought  from  home  ?  " 

But  in  the  midst  of  that  primeval  Garden 
the  eye  was  arrested  by  two  objects,  of  v/liicli 
the  counterpart  cannot  now  be  found  in  the 
field  or  the  forest.  One  of  these  was  "  the 
Tree  of  the  Knowledge  of  Good  and  Evil," — 
regarding  which  God  said,  "  Thou  shalt  not 
eat  of  it :  for  in  the  day  that  thou  eatest 
thereof  thou  shalt  surely  die."  The  other 
was  "the  Tree  of  Life,"  which  possessed  a 
supernatural  virtue.  To  eat  of  it  was  to  live 
for  ever.  Its  fruit  was  the  antidote  of  death 
and  the  means  of  sustaining  man  in  his  ori- 
ginal immortality. 

The  Tree  of  KncwlcdGre  was  a  test  of  obc- 


THE  TREE  OP  LIFE.  3 

(lience.  Any  act  of  transgression  would  have 
forfeited  man's  tenure  of  Paradise ;  but  in 
making  a  covenant  with  Adam  God  was 
pleased  to  select  one  special  form  of  absti- 
nence as  the  criterion  of  his  self-denial  and 
his  loyalty.  Around  this  Tree,  so  "  good  for 
food"  and  so  "pleasant  to  the  eyes,"  the  Su- 
preme Lawgiver  reared  a  fence,  and  saying, 
"  Thou  shalt  not  eat  of  it,"  He  concentred 
man's  attention  on  a  single  point,  and,  so  to 
speak,  reduced  his  trial  to  a  single  issue.  But 
the  subtilty  of  Satan  and  the  attractions  of 
the  forbidden  tree  proved  too  strong  for  man's 
loyalty.  He  took  the  tempting  fruit.  He  ate, 
and  was  undone. 

The  Tree  of  Life  was  a  token  of  the  Crea- 
tor's preserving  care  and  a  memento  of  the 
creature's  dependence.  What  like  it  was  we 
do  not  know,  but  it  possessed  a  marvellous 
efficacy.  As  long  as  man  ate  of  it  he  could 
not  die :  and  it  has  been  ingeniously  suggested 
that  the  protracted  lives  of  the  antediluvians 
were  owing  to  the  power  of  this  Paradisaic 
antidote  lingering  for  ages  in  the  human  con- 
stitution. But  however  this  may  be,  the  Tree 
was  a  type  of  the  one  Great  Source  of  Ini- 


4  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

mortality.  It  taught  the  creature  that  ho 
was  not  his  own  preserver.  It  reminded  him 
that  the  "Fountain  of  Life"  was  external  to 
himself,  and  that  the  only  security  for  his  own 
life's  prolongation  was  the  constant  command 
of  this  soul-gladdening  and  life-confirming 
sustenance.  And  most  likely  every  time  that 
he  partook  of  it  he  was  conscious  of  an  in- 
tenser  immortalit3^  Possibly  the  consum- 
mation of  each  day's  lightsome  labour,  and 
coincident  with  those  visits  of  his  Heavenly 
Father  which  made  so  welcome  the  cool  of 
the  day,  we  can  imagine  him  resorting  to  the 
spot  where  stood  the  sacramental  symbol, — 
its  very  continuance  a  sign  that  on  either  side 
the  covenant  continued  still  inviolate, — de- 
voutly stretching  forth  his  hand  to  the  laden 
bough,  and  whilst  he  and  his  partner  ate  the 
mystic  fruit,  which  filled  all  tlisir  being  with 
celestial  jo}'-  and  raised  them  nearer  tb  the 
angels,  overhearing  from  above  the  voice  of 
God,  answering  with  their  evening  hymn, 
and  then  sinking  into  hallowed  slumber  be- 
neath the  sacred  shadow. 

After  man's  transgression,  the  Tree  of  Life 
ceased  to  be  accessible.    Lest,  in  his  despera- 


THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  5 

tion,  man  should  rusli  to  it,  and  by  its  mis- 
timed use  entail  on  himself  immortal  misery, 
God  sent  him  fortli  from  the  garden  of  Eden, 
and  with  a  flaming  sword  and  chcrub-senti- 
iiels  guarded  every  avenue.  And  now  the 
gates  of  the  primeval  Paradise  are  closed. 
That  short  dispensation  is  ended.  That  co- 
venant is  broken  beyond  all  possibility  of 
reparation  ;  and  in  this  world  there  is  no 
longer  any  innocent  creature  to  whom  God 
can  say  what  he  said  to  Adam,  "  Do  this  and 
Uve." 

But  there  is  still  a  Tree  of  Life.  Instead 
of  abandoning  our  guilty  race  to  self-entailed 
destruction,  in  His  unspeakable  mercy,  God 
has  interposed,  and  in  the  mission  and  atone- 
ment of  His  own  dear  Son  has  provided 
a  salvation  for  sinners  of  mankind.  And 
throughout  the  inspired  records,  the  Saviour 
and  His  work  are  repeatedly  introduced  under 
the  veil  of  this  most  ancient  emblem. 

In  Ezekiel's  vision  of  the  Temple  Waters 
we  are  told,  that  on  the  bank  of  the  river 
"shall  grow  all  trees  for  meat,  whose  leaf 
shall  not  fiide,  neither  shall  tlie  fruit  thereof 
fail :  every  month  they  shall  bring  forth  fruit 
b2 


6  t.'klliLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

nXresli :  and  the  fruit  thereof  shall  be  for  meat, 
find  the  leaf  thereof  for  medicine : "  a  passage 
predicting  that  great  outburst  of  Gospel  bless' 
ings  with  which  the  Church  of  Christ  is  yet 
to  surprise  herself  and  renovate  the  world, 
and  which  connects  itself  so  obviously  with 
John's  vision  of  the  New  Jerusalem  :  "  And 
lie  showed  me  a  pure  river  of  water  of  life, 
clear  as  crystal,  proceeding  out  of  the  throne 
of  God  and  of  the  Lamb.  In  the  midst  of  the 
.street  of  it,  and  on  either  side  of  the  river, 
was  there  the  Tree  of  Life,  which  bare  twelve 
fruits,  and  yielded  its  fruit  cvcrj  month  :  and 
the  leaves  of  the  Tree  were  for  the  healing  of 
the  nations : "  or,  as  it  has  been  rendered  in 
the  pleasant  rhyme  of  that  forgotten  bard 
who  long  since  sang  "  Jerusalem,  my  happy 
home : " — 

**  Thy  gardens  and  thy  gallant  walks 
Continually  are  green ; 
There  grow  such  sweet  and  pleasant  flowers 
As  nowhere  else  are  seen. 

Quite  through  the  streets,  with  silver  sound. 

The  flood  of  life  doth  flow  ; 
Upon  whose  banks  on  every  side 

The  trees  of  life  do  grow. 


TUE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  7 

These  trees  each  month  do  yield  their  fruit, 

For  evermore  they  spring ; 
And  all  the  nations  of  the  world 

To  thee  their  honours  bring." 

So  profuse  is  the  immortality,  and  so  uni- 
versally accessible  are  the  blessings  of  this 
happy  region,  that  either  prophet  speaks  in 
these  passages  as  if  the  trees  of  life  wero 
many :  just  as  elsewhere,  with  allusion  to  His 
manifold  operations  and  offices,  the  one  great 
Comforter  is  called  "the  Seven  Spirits  of 
God."  Elsewhere,  however,  where  precision 
and  personality  are  required,  the  primitive 
unity  reappears;  and  in  the  promise  to  the 
faithful  of  Ephesus  we  read,  "  To  him  that 
overcometh  will  I  grant  to  eat  of  the  Tree  of 
Life,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  Paradise  of 
God," — repeated  and  extended  in  the  last 
page  of  the  canon,  "  Blessed  are  they  that  do 
His  commandments,  that  they  may  have  right 
to  the  Tree  of  Life,  and  may  enter  in  through 
the  gates  into  the  city." 

In  our  present  contemplation  of  this  celes- 
tial Tree  we  shall  restrict  ourselves  to  its 
health-restoring  and  life-sustaining  efficacy. 

The  pre-requisite  to  all  enjoyment  is  health. 


8.  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

You  are  sick,  and  your  little  sister  brings  in 
a  snowdrop  from  the  garden,  or  a  sprig  of 
verbena  from  the  conservatory,  and  you  take 
it  with  a  languid  smile,  and  lay  it  beside  your 
pillow,  and  hardly  look  at  it  again.  And 
your  brother  comes  in  and  shows  you  a  splen- 
did present  which  has  just  been  sent  you,  or 
he  opens  a  letter  and  announces  that  the  law- 
suit is  gained,  and  that  you  are  heir  to  a  noble 
property :  but  the  pain  just  then  is  exquisite, 
and  in  this  intensity  of  torture  there  is  no- 
thing you  desire  but  deliverance  from  anguish. 
Or  in  the  adjoining  chamber  a  charming  me- 
lody is  played ;  but  you  beg  them  to  leave  off, 
for  the  noise  is  driving  you  distracted. 

And  so,  spiritually,  there  is  no  health  in 
us;  but  the  whole  head  is  sick  and  the  whole 
heart  faint.  Desire  has  failed.  The  soul  of 
man  takes  no  interest  in  the  objects  which 
once  stirred  it  with  liveliest  emotion ;  but 
whether  it  be  in  the  dull  discomfort  of  habi- 
tual ungodliness,  or  in  the  acuter  paroxysms 
of  sinful  passion  and  guilty  remorse,  those 
objects  which  fill  a  holy  universe  with  delight 
are  the  objects  of  the  sinner's  aversion  or  con- 
tempt.   And  Avere  you  saying  to  him,  "  Here 


THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  9 

is  a  pearl  of  great  price  which  your  Elder 
Brother  has  sent  you  from  the  far  country : 
this  is  a  letter  announcing  that  our  Advocate 
has  gained  the  case,  and  secured  for  the  mem- 
bers of  this  family  the  fair  inheritance  of 
Heaven,"  he  would  only  listen  "vvith  languid 
curiosity  ;  and  were  you  inviting  him  to  take 
part  in  any  of  those  holy  recreations  which 
form  the  pastime  of  spirits  pure  and  healthy: 
"  Listen  to  this  description  of  God's  love. 
Let  us  sing  together  this  psalm  of  thanks- 
giving," the  invitation  would  only  vex  him. 
But  Christ  is  the  cure  of  sin.  His  atone- 
ment pacifies  the  conscience;  His  Spirit 
purifies  the  heart;  His  person, — the  life  He 
led,  and  the  words  He  spake, — give  new  and 
endearing  views  of  God.  And  just  as  in 
the  days  of  His  earthly  sojourn,  to  go  to  Him 
was  to  be  cured  of  what  disease  soever  any 
man  had,  so  now  that  He  is  exalted  a  Prince 
and  a  Saviour,  it  is  to  bestow  repentance 
and  remission  of  sins  ;  and  if  you  go  to 
Him,  whatever  be  your  nature's  malady,  He 
will  make  you  whole.  If  covered  with  sin's 
leprosy,  and  ashamed  to  carry  into  a  Presence 
f-o  pure  defilement  so  repulsive,  moved  witli 


10  EJIBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

compassion  He  will  say,  "  I  -will :  be  thou 
clean,"  and  that  word  of  kind  omnipotence 
will  make  you  a  new  creature.  If  prostriite 
in  sin's  fever, — if  tossed  with  passion,  and 
delirious  with  wild  desire, — He  will  take  you 
by  the  hand  and  raise  you  up,  and,  restored 
and  tranquillised,  you  will  be  able  to  minister 
to  the  Master.  If  sick  of  the  palsy, — if  bereft 
of  spiritual  power,  and  shut  up  in  the  shaking- 
sepulchre  of  a  dreary  and  disconsolate  exist- 
ence, trembling  for  the  future,  but  unable  to 
improve  the  present, — He  will  say,  "  Son,  be 
of  good  cheer;  thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee," 
and  like  him,  who^  strong  in  the  infusion  of  a 
celestial  happiness,  "took  up  his  bed"  and 
departed  to  his  house,  the  Saviour's  par- 
doning word  will  fill  you  with  immortal 
youth,  and  send  you  on  your  way  rejoicing. 

Alexander  the  Great  was  dying  of  a 
wound  which  did  not  seem  very  dangerous 
at  first,  but  it  baffled  his  physicians,  and  was 
rapidly  becoming  mortal.  One  nigiit,  how- 
ever, he  dreamed  that  some  one  had  brought 
him  a  peculiar-looking  plant,  which,  when 
'ipplied  to  the  festering  sore,  had  cleansed 
ind  closed  it.  In  the  morning  when  he  awoke, 


THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  I  1 

he  described  the  plant,  and  the  historian 
says,  that  being  sought  for,  it  v/as  fbitii:! 
and  applied,  and  the  licry  wound  was  healecl. 
Now,  dear  reader,  your  soul  has  got  a  deadly 
hurt.  It  has  been  bitten  by  that  old  serpent, 
the  devil  ;  and  although  the  injury  may  not 
look  alarming  at  the  first,  sin  has  got  into  the 
system,  and  left  to  yourself  you  will  never 
recover.  The  wound  gets  worse.  Your  very 
efforts  to  heal  it,  only  exasperate  it  more  and 
more.  You  have  broken  the  Sabbath  ;  you 
have  taken  God's  name  in  vain  ;  you  have 
been  overtaken  Avith  strong  drink  ;  you  have 
been  guilty  of  some  deed,  harsh,  cruel,  dis- 
honest ;  or  you  have  spoken  some  word  ma- 
lignant, impious,  or  untrue  : — something  has 
occurred  which  stounding  through  your  con- 
science, calls  attention  to  the  neglected  stab 
in  your  nature.  And  you  try  to  heal  it.  You 
lay  some  flattering  unction  on  the  sore.  You 
promise  to  yourself  and  to  God  that  you 
will  never  do  the  like  again.  You  form  ear- 
nest purposes,  and  you  sketch  out  excellent 
schemes  of  daily  conduct.  You  bind  your- 
self to  a  daily  task  of  Bible-reading  ;  you  go 
iTgularly  to  church ;  perhaps  in  the  hope  of 


12  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

a  decisive  benefit,  you  even  force  yourself 
forward  to  the  communion.  But  nothing 
comes  of  it.  The  damage  is  too  deep.  Un- 
godliness,— the  virus  that  kills  the  soul, — has 
got  into  the  blood ;  it  bounds  in  every  re- 
bellious pulse,  it  breathes  in  every  selfish 
prayer,  it  converts  into  a  worse  disease  each 
self-righteous  palliative;  and  though  for  a 
season  your  conscience  may  be  soothed,  the 
wound  is  still  deadly,  your  nature  is  still 
unrenewed. 

But  despised  and  rejected  of  men,  there 
is  a  tender  plant  known  to  God,  and  revealed 
in  the  Gospel,  which  is  able  to  heal  you.  It 
is  the  Balm  of  Gilead, — the  finished  work  of 
Immanuel,  the  substitution  in  the  sinner's 
stead,  and  the  satisfaction  rendered  to  Divine 
justice  by  God's  -beloved  Son.  In  order  to 
obtain  its  healing  essence,  they  used  to  wound 
the  Balsam  Tree ;  and  so  for  our  transgres- 
sions the  Saviour  was  wounded.  In  order  to 
give  forth  in  one  crowning  and  conclusive 
act  the  merit  of  His  life,  lie  was  obedient 
unto  death,  and  He  made  His  soul  an  offering 
for  sin.  In  the  fires  of  Gethsemane  "  the 
green  tree"  burned,  and  was  not  consumed  ; 


THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  13 

but  in  that  hour  of  hot  indignation,  when 
His  sweat  was  as  great  drops  of  blood  falling 
to  the  ground,  the  first  drops  of  this  heavenly 
balm  exuded,  and  when  on  Calvary  His 
blessed  side  Avas  pierced,  the  full  current 
followed.  The  blood  then  poured  forth, 
meeting  as  it  did  the  great  maxim  in  Hea- 
ven's jurisprudence,  "  Without  shedding  of 
blood  there  is  no  remission,"  and  bringing  to 
a  climax  the  vicarious  sufferings  of  the  Di- 
vine Redeemer,  is  often  spoken  of  as  if  it  had 
been  the  entire  price  which  purchased  re- 
demption, and  is  constantly  employed  as  an 
affecting  synonyme  for  Immanuel's  atoning 
sacrifice.  "  This  cup  is  the  new  covenant  in 
my  blood,  which  is  shed  for  many,  for  the 
remission  of  sins."  "  Ye  are  redeemed  with 
the  precious  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  of  a 
Lamb  without  blemish."  "  The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin." 

With  its  peace-speaking,  soul-cleansing 
efficacy,  this  precious  blood  is  the  balm  which 
God  has  provided  to  restore  soundness  to  the 
sin-stricken  nature.  Most  usually  in  the 
vehicle  of  some  "  faithful  saying,"  the  Holy 
f^pirit  takes  the  truth  concerning  Jesus  and 

C 


14  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

applies  it  to  the  understanding  and  tlio  heart. 
In  some  thoughtful  or  anxious  moment  lie 
sheds  a  new  and  endearing  light  on  the 
sacrifice  and  intercession  of  the  Saviour  ; 
and,  whilst  surveying  the  great  appointed 
Antidote,  love,  thankfulness,  and  praise,  steal 
into  the  mind  of  the  beholder.  The  aspect 
of  the  Godhead  is  altered  ;  and,  surrendering 
to  the  grace  of  the  Gospel,  the  rebel  is  sub- 
dued into  a  penitent,  and  the  penitent  is  sur- 
prised into  the  gratitude  and  new  obedience 
of  the  prodigal  restored. 

As  a  North- American  Indian  once  de- 
scribed it  to  an  audience  in  London  :  "  You 
know  we  Indians  are  great  deer-hunters,  and 
when  we  shoot  the  deer  he  runs  away  as  if 
he  was  not  hurt;  but  when  he  gets  to  the 
hill,  he  feels  the  pain,  and  he  lays  down  on 
tliat  side  where  the  pain  is  most  severe.  Then 
he  feels  the  pain  on  the  otlier  side,  and  turns 
over  ;  and  so  he  wanders  about  till  lie  perishes. 
After  I  learned  to  pray,  tliat  pain  in  my  heart 
increased  more  severe.  I  could  not  sleep. 
Like  the  wounded  deer  I  turned  from  side  to 
side,  and  could  not  rest.  At  last  I  got  up  at 
one  or  two  o'clock  at  night,  and  walked  ubouf 


THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  15 

my  room.  I  made  another  effort  in  prayer, 
and  said,  *  O  Jesus,  I  will  not  let  thee  go, 
except  thou  bless  me ;'  and  before  the  break 
of  day,  I  found  that  ray  heavy  heart  was  taken 
uway.  I  felt  happy.  I  felt  the  joy  that  is 
unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  I  found  Jesus 
indeed  sweet  to  my  soul." 

A  hundred  years  ago,  there  was  a  vigorous- 
minded  man  and  an  able  scholar,  the  rector 
of  Wintringham  in  Lincolnshire.  Entering 
the  ministry  witliout  love  to  God  or  to  tho 
souls  of  men,  for  years  he  spent  his  profes- 
sional income  on  self-indulgence ;  and  whilst 
the  pastor  amusctd  himself,  the  people  perished. 
At  last  his  conscience  was  awakened,  and  as 
lys  conduct  grew  correct,  his  preaching  be- 
came earnest  and  arousing.  Still  he  was  ig- 
norant of  "  Christ  crucified,"  and  as  his  was 
not  the  ministry  of  reconciHation  no  effect 
followed  his  solemn  exhortations.  He  was 
vexed  at  the  epistle  to  the  Romans  :  for,  hard 
as  he  found  it  to  attain  a  life  of  superior 
.sanctity,  St.  Paul  seemed  to  make  no  ac- 
count of  human  goodness  however  eminent ; 
and  although  he  read  Grotius  and  Ham- 
mond,  thej^   did  not  resolve  his  difficulties. 


16  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

But  being  a  man  of  strong  native  sense,  he 
could  not  rest  in  this  uncertainty.  Accord- 
ingly, one  day  he  "  spread  the  matter  before 
the  Lord,"  and  entreated  Him  to  pity  his  dis- 
tress, and  guide  him  by  His  Holy  Spirit  into 
the  understanding  of  the  truth.  Then  taking 
up  his  Greek  Testament,  he  read  carefully 
over  the  first  six  chapters  of  the  Romans.  To 
his  unspeakable  astonishment  his  difficulties 
disappeared.  The  righteousness  of  God  was 
revealed  to  him.  He  saw  that  justification 
through  Jesus  Christ  alone  is  the  great  bur- 
den of  the  Gospel,  the  grand  display  of  God's 
perfections,  and  the  only  piinciple  of  gen- 
uine holiness.  He  rejoiced  with  exceeding 
joy.  "  His  conscience  was  purged  from  guilt 
through  the  atoning  blood  of  Christ,  and  his 
heart  set  at  liberty  to  run  the  way  of  God's 
commandments,  in  a  spirit  of  filial  love  and 
holy  delight ;  and  from  that  hour  Mr.  Adam 
began  to  preach  salvation  through  faith  in 
Jesus  Christ  alone,  to  man  by  nature  and 
practice  lost,  condemned  under  the  law,  and,  as 
his  own  expression  is,  *  Always  a  sinner.' " 

But  if  the  balsam  of  this  immortal  Tree  is 
renovation  to  the  soul,  there  is  in  its  very 


THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  17 

leaves  a  sanatory  virtue.  They  are  "  medi- 
cine." They  are  "  for  the  healing  of  the 
nations."  The  sayings  of  Jesus,  and  the 
silent  charm  of  his  recorded  actions,  are  an 
influence  doing  good  in  the  world  every  day ; 
and  no  one  can  come  beneath  the  Tree  of 
Life  but  straiglitway  his  mind  is  better.  Is 
he  carking  and  care-worn,  afraid  lest  his 
supplies  be  cut  off,  and  he  be  left  without  a 
competency  ?  Then  at  his  feet  he  gathers 
a  leaf  inscribed,  "  Behold  the  fowls  of  the 
air ;  for  they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap, 
nor  gather  into  barns  ;  yet  your  Heavenly 
Father  fecdeth  them.  Seek  first  the  king- 
dom of  God  and  His  righteousness,  and  take 
no  thought  for  the  morrow."  Is  he  lonely  ? 
mourning  friends  estranged  or  buried  ?  Then 
amidst  a  musical  whisper  overhead  there  falls 
flickering  into  his  bosom  a  leaf  which  says, 
"  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words : 
and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will 
come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with 
him."  Is  he  vexed  and  angry  ?  fuming  at 
some  offence,  vowing  vengeance  for  some  in- 
dignity ?  Then,  like  a  rose-petal,  soft  and 
fragrant,  there  glides  down  some  memorial  of 
c2 


18  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

Calvary,  or  the  fifth  petition  in  a  well-rcmcm- 
bered  prayer ;  and  as  it  lies  upon  his  heart  so 
calm,  his  angry  spirit  cools,  and  he  gets 
grace  to  cry,  "  Father,  forgive."  For  Christ's 
name  sake  Mr.  Simeon  was  at  one  time 
an  object  of  much  scorn  and  contempt  in 
the  University  of  Cambridge;  and  it  was 
very  trying  to  be  a  man  so  marked,  that 
no  one  would  like  to  be  recognised  by  him 
or  seen  walking  with  him.  One  day  as  he 
strolled  along,  weary  with  continual  re- 
proach and  buffet.mg,  he  prayed  that  God 
would  send  him  some  cordial  in  His  Word ; 
and  opening  his  little  Testament,  the  first 
sentence  on  which  his  eye  alighted  was, 
"  They  found  a  man  of  Cyrene,  Simon  by 
name  ;  him  they  compelled  to  bear  his  cross." 
Relating  the  incident,  he  added,  "  You  know 
Simon  is  the  same  name  as  Simeon  ;  and  when 
I  read  that,  I  said.  Lord,  lay  it  on  me,  lay  it 
on  me  !  I  will  gladly  bear  the  cross  for  Thy 
sake.  And  I  thenceforth  bound  persecution 
as  a  wreath  of  glory  round  my  brow."  That 
was  a  leaf  from  the  Tree  ;  and  as  in  the 
instance  of  that  opportune  text,  it  has  often 
happened  that  the  mourner  in  Zion  has  come 


TUE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  19 

into  the  sanctuary  with  some  matter  too  hard 
for  him,  or  with  some  thorn  in  the  flesh  or 
some  wound  in  his  spirit  he  has  sate  down  to 
read  or  to  meditate,  and,  like  the  leaf  brought 
into  the  anxious  ark  by  Noali's  dove,  some 
faithful  saying  brought  home  by  the  Com- 
forter, has  turned  fear  into  hope,  and  languor 
into  life,  and  sent  him  on  his  way  rejoicing. 

Nor  is  it  only  to  the  individual  believer 
that  these  leaves  bring  healing.  At  this  mo- 
ment numbers  of  them  are  blown  about  the 
world  ;  and  although  drifted  to  and  fro,  soiled, 
withered,  and  fiir  distant  from  the  Tree,  even 
in  their  promiscuous  flight  they  have  helped 
to  heal  the  nations.  They  banished  the  gla- 
diatorial games  of  old  Rome,  and  cured  the 
abominations  of  classic  Paganism.  In  modern 
Europe  they  have  extinguished  slayery,  and 
around  person  and  property  they  have 
thrown  a  sanction  and  securities  formerly 
unknown.  Even  now  they  mitigate  the 
enormities  of  war,  and  with  the  Sabbath 
and  many  softening  influences  coming  in  be- 
twixt Mammon  and  the  toiling  million,  they 
win  an  occasional  respite  for  the  bleared  eyes 
and  blistered  hands  of  Industry.     And  even 


20  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN, 

when  crushed  beneath  the  careless  foot,  or 
draggled  in  the  way-side  mire,  they  still  emit 
Iheir  heavenly  fragrance  ;  and  although  they 
may  ho  only  quoted  to  adorn  an  idle  speech 
or  tale,  no  tongue  can  tell  how  much  the 
Saviour's  holy  words  are  doing  to  soften  the 
heart  of  Humanity  and  purify  the  air  of  Time. 
But  if  the  leaf  of  this  Tree  is  for  medicine, 
its  fruit  is  for  food  to  the  nations  of  the  saved. 
The  person  of  Immanuel  is  the  great  store- 
house of  the  Church's  strength  and  happi- 
ness ;  and  it  is  by  apprehending  His  character 
and  availing  ourselves  of  His  kindness  that 
we  are  to  grow  in  hope  towards  God  and  in 
personal  holiness.  For  although  the  Tree  of 
Life  is  now  transplanted  to  the  midst  of  the 
Upper  Paradise,  his  branches  stretch  to 
"this  lower  ground  :"  the  blessings  which  He 
purchased  are  brought  nigh,  even  to  the  hand 
and  mouth  of  sinners  here  on  earth.  And  as 
the  fruits  of  this  Tree  are  yielded  in  twelve- 
fold succession,  there  need  not  be  a  month  in 
any  year,  nor  a  day  in  any  week,  in  which 
the  soul  does  not  enjoy  the  tranquillising, 
invigorating,  and  sanctifying  results  of  com- 
munion with  the  Saviour. 


THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  21 

In  Eastern  poetry  tliej  tell  of  a  wondrous 
tree,  on  which  grew  golden  apples  and  silver 
bells;  and  every  time  the  breeze  went  by 
and  tossed  the  fragrant  branches,  a  shower  of 
these  golden  apples  fell,  and  the  living  bells, 
they  chimed  and  tinkled  forth  their  airy 
ravishment.  On  the  Gospel  Tree  there  grow 
melodious  blossoms  ;  sweeter  bells  than  those 
which  mingled  with  the  pomegranates  on 
Aaron's  vest;  holy  feelings,  heaven-taught 
joys ;  and  when  the  wind  blowing  where  he 
listeth,  the  south-wind  waking, — when  the 
Holy  Spirit  breathes  upon  that  ssul,  there  is 
the  shaking  down  of  mellow  fruits,  and  the 
flow  of  healthy  odours  all  around,  and  the 
gush  of  sweetest  music,  whose  gentle  tones 
and  joyful  echoings  are  wafted  through  all 
recesses  of  the  soul.  Not  easily  explained  to 
others,  and  too  ethereal  to  define,  these  joys 
are  on  that  account  but'  the  more  delightful. 
The  sweet  sense  of  forgiveness ;  the  consci- 
ous exercise  of  all  the  devout  affections,  and 
grateful  and  adoring  emotions  Godward ;  the 
lull  of  sinful  passions,  itself  ecstatic  music; 
an  exulting  sense  of  the  security  of  the  well- 
ordered  covenant;   the   gladness   of  surety- 


9.9. 


EMI'.LLMS  FK03I  EDKN". 


rigliieousness,  and  the  kind  Spirit  of  adoption 
encouniging  you  to  say,  "Abba,  Father ;"  all 
the  delightful  feelings  which  the  Spirit  of  God 
increases  or  creates,  and  which  are  summed 
up  in  that  comprehensive  word, — "joy  in  the 
Holy  Ghost." 

Such  was  the  happy  case  of  Dr.  Doddridge 
when  he  wrote  as  follows  to  an  absent  friend : 
"My  days  begin,  pass,  and  end  in  pleasure, 
and  seem  short  because  they  are  so  delightful. 
•I  have  more  of  the  presence  of  God  than  1 
ever  remember.  He  enables  me  to  live  for 
Him,  and  to  live  with  Him.  When  I  awake 
in  the  morning  I  address  myself  to  Him.  and 
converse  with  Him  ;  and  He  meets  me  in  my 
study,  in  secret  and  family  devotion.  It  is 
pleasant  to  read,  pleasant  to  compose,  pleasant 
to  converse  with  my  friends  at  home,  pleasant 
to  visit  the  sick,  the  poor ;  pleasant  to  write 
letters  of  necessary  business  by  Avhicli  any 
good  can  be  done,  and  pleasant  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  poor  souls  ;  pleasant  in  the  week 
to  think  how  near  another  Sabbath  is,  and 
oh  !  how  much  more  pleasant  to  think  how 
near  eternity  is,  and  that  it  is  but  a  step  from 
Earth  to  Heaven." 


TIIK  TREE  OF  LIFE.  ^3 

Were  such  a  state  of  mind  continuous,  the 
beatified  existence  would  become  a  Heaven 
on  Earth  ;  and  the  only  reason  why  it  is  not 
continuous  is,  that  we  wander  away  from  the 
Tree  of  Life ;  we  forget  what  Jesus  is,  or 
cease  to  avail  ourselves  of  His  intercession. 
Accepted  in  the  Beloved,  and,  whatsoever  we 
do,  doing  it  in  the  name  of  Christ  Jesus, 
"  our  days  would  begin,  pass,  and  end  in 
pleasure." 

"My  Beloved,"  says  the  Church,  "is  as 
the  apple-tree.  I  sat  down  under  his  shadow 
with  great  delight,  and  his  fruit  was  sweet 
to  my  taste."  Intimacy  with  the  Saviour  is 
happiness,  and  from  that  adoring  and  affec- 
tionate communion  there  should  be  seen  to 
arise  a  decisive  effect  on  the  temper  and  con- 
duct. 

1.  For  instance,  confidence  in  God.  No 
man  hath  seen  God,  but  the  only-begotten 
Son  had  a  most  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
perfections  of  the  Most  High  ;  and  that  know- 
ledge filled  Him  with  ineffable  complacency. 
It  was  His  happiness  to  know  that  the  throne 
of  the  universe  is  occupied  by  spotless  recti- 
tude, boundless  benevolence,   and  infallible 


24  EMBLEMS  FKCM  EDEN. 

wisdom ;  and  in  holding  communion  with 
God,  He  held  communion  with  the  holiest  of 
happy  beings,  and  the  happiest  of  the  holy, 
and  this  infinitely  holy  and  happy  being 
His  own  Father  in  heaven.  Jesus  Christ 
had  perfect  confidence  in  God.  In  all  His 
doings  He  rejoiced,  and  in  all  His  require- 
ments He  cheerfully  acquiesced,  evermore 
saying,  "  Father,  I  thank  Thee  :  Father,  Thy 
will  be  done  ;"  and  undisturbed  by  one  oppos- 
ing wish,  undeflected  by  one  antagonist  in- 
terest, the  mind  that  was  in  Christ,  and  the 
mind  that  is  in  God,  were  in  constant  unison. 
The  will  of  God  and  the  life  of  Jesus  made 
one  music : — the  Pattcrn-^Ian  and  the  mani- 
fested Jehovah,  and  so  a  perfect  Mediation  : — 
Heaven  enshrined  in  Humanity,  and  Hu- 
manity enfolded  in  the  bosom  of  infinite  Love. 
And  whosoever  will  in  meekness  sit  at 
Christ's  feet  will  soon  learn  right  views  of 
God's  character.  The  representation  of  God's 
disposition,  so  forgiving,  so  compassioniite,  so 
fatherly,  which  He  so  often  gave  in  His  para- 
bles and  discourses ;  which  was  illustrated  in 
His  own  beneficent  career,  and  at  last  crowned 
by  His  peerless  sacrifice ; — when  a  thoughtful 


THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  25 

eye  has  fixed  upon  it  and  a  candid  spirit 
owned  its  truth,  it  works  a  marvellous  trans- 
formation. Strange  prejudices  vanish, — pre- 
judices old  as  memory  and  deep  as  sin  ;  and 
in  the  society  of  One  whom  God  hails  as  His 
beloved  Son,  and  whom  the  sinner  learns  to 
recognise  as  his  own  Divine  and  adorable 
Brother,  views  of  the  unseen  Jehovah  break 
in  upon  the  mind  akin  to  those  which  in- 
spired and  irradiated  the  Saviour  Himself: 
until  in  the  Maker  of  vrorlds  the  spirit  finds 
its  truest  Father,  its  kindest  and  most  intimate 
Friend :  until  that  great  and  inevitable  Being 
whom  the  guilty  conscience  eyed  askance 
as  the  frowning  Spectator  of  all  its  actions, 
and  the  incubus  on  all  its  merriment,  becomes 
the  brightness  of  the  present  and  the  hope  of 
the  future,  the  strength  of  the  heart  and  its 
portion  for  ever. 

2.  An  endeared  command.  To  a  worldly 
man  the  commands  of  God  are  briars  and 
thorns.  They  wound  him  in  his  attempt  to 
reach  his  sinful  pleasures,  and  perhaps  he  flies 
into  a  rage ,  and  kicks  against  the  pricks, — 
piercing  himself  through  with  many  sorrows. 
But  just  as  the  naturalist  tells  us  that  spines 

D 


26  EMBLEMS  rnO.^l   EDEN. 

arc  abortive  buds,  and  that  if  tlicj  had  been 
allowed  to  develope  fully,  they  might  have 
adorned  the  tree  with  fragrant  blossoms  and 
fair  fruits, — so  the  precepts,  which  on  the  dry 
trunk  of  Pharisaism  stand  out  as  mere  prickly 
prohibitions,  expand  on  the  Tree  of  Life  and 
become  equivalent  to  great  and  precious  pro- 
mises. Requirements  so  exceeding  broad  as 
the  love  of  God  with  all  the  soul, —  so  very 
deep  as  holiness  of  heart  and  purity  of 
thought, —  so  strangely  high  as  good-will  to 
enemies  and  the  repayment  of  cruelty  with 
kindness  ;  —  commands,  which  to  the  man 
trying  to  earn  his  own  heaven,  are  only  an 
interruption  and  a  provocation  ;  to  the  believer^ 
in  Jesus  are  "  the  mark  of  a  high  calling," 
—  the  index  of  the  rank  to  which  he  himself 
is  yet  to  rise, — the  pledge  of  eventual  perfect 
holiness.  As  found  on  the  Tree  of  Life  the 
thorn  has  developed  into  a  pleasant  fruit,  and 
fraught  with  his  Saviour's  love  and  fragrant 
with  good  things  to  come,  the  disciple  finds 
it  sweet  to  his  taste. 

3.  Self-denial.  Said  our  Lord,  "If  any 
man  will  be  my  disciple,  let  him  take  up  his 
cross,  and  deny  himself,  and  follow  me."  The 


THE  TliEE  OF  LIFE.  27 

fruit  of  tlie  Tree  of  Life  is  tonic  and  invigo- 
rating, and  nowhere  is  self-denial  so  easy  as 
in  the  society  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Re- 
deemer. But  what  is  self-denial  ?  Is  it 
sackcloth  on  the  loins  ?  Is  it  a  wooden  block 
for  a  pillow?  Is  it  pulse  or  lentil -pottage 
for  the  daily  meal  ?  Is  it  a  crypt  or  kennel 
for  one's  lodging  ?  Ah  no  !  In  all  this  flesh- 
pinching  there  is  often  a  subtile  self-pleasing  : 
but  when  the  temper  is  up  to  rule  the  spirit, 
and  over  a  "manly  revenge"  to  let  Christian 
magnanimity  triumph,  —  that  is  self-denial. 
To  take  pains  with  dull  children,  and  with  ig- 
norant and  insipid  adults, — that  is  self-denial. 
To  hide  from  the  left  hand  what  the  right  is 
doing  :  to  ply  the  task  when  fellow-labourers 
drop  away  and  lookers-on  wax  few :  for  the 
Lord's  sake  still  to  follow  up  the  work  when 
the  world  gives  you  no  credit,— that  is  self- 
denial.  When  you  might  tell  your  own  ex- 
ploits, to  let  another  praise  you,  and  not  your 
own  lips ;  and  when  a  fancy  -  touch  would 
make  a  good  story  a  great  deal  better,  to 
let  the  "yea"  continue  simple  yea,  —  that 
is  self-denial.  Rather  than  romantic  novel- 
ties to  prefer  duty  with  its  sober  common- 


28  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

place  routine,  and  to  stand  at  your  post  when 
the  knees  are  feeble  and  the  heart  is  faint, — 
that  is  self-denial.  From  personal  indulgence, 
—  from  the  lust  of  the  flesh  and  the  pride  of 
life,  to  save  wherewithal  to  succour  the  in- 
digent and  help  forward  Christ's  kingdom  on 
earth, — that  is  self-denial. 

**  O  cowld  we  learn  tliat  sacrifice, 
What  lights  would  all  around  us  rise! 
How  would  our  hearts  with  wisdom  talk 
Along  life's  dullest,  dreariest  walk ! 

We  need  not  bid  for  cloister'd  cell 
Our  neighbour  and  our  work  farewell, 
Nor  strive  to  wind  ourselves  too  high 
For  sinful  man  beneath  the  sky. 

The  t?ivial  round,  the  common  task, 
Would  furnish  all  we  ought  to  ask ; 
Room  to  deny  ourselves ;  a  road 
To  bring  us  daily  nearer  God." 

4.  Wandering  on  the  strand,  it  sometimes 
happens  that  the  castaway  picks  up  a  golden 
apple  or  some  bright  fruit  which  reminds  him 
of  his  own  sunny  clime,  and  makes  him  wish 
that  he  were  there  once  more.  And  so  when 
there  is  winter  in  his  world, — when  joy  has 


THE  TKEE  OF  LIFE.  29 

fled  away  and  nights  are  growing  dark,  the 
Christian  pilgrim  sometimes  finds  at  his  feet 
an  unexpeeted  memento  of  his  heavenly  home. 
It  has  descended  from  the  Tree  of  Life,  and 
brought  down  to  Patmos  the  very  air  of  Pa- 
radise ;  and  as  he  presses  to  his  lips  tlic  great 
and  precious  promise,  he  can  only  cry,  "  Even 
so,  Lord  Jesus  ;  come  quickly."  He  is  an  exile 
from  Eden,  and  as  there  is  now  little  to  de- 
tain him  here,  he  longs  "to  depart  and  be 
with  Christ,  which  is  far  better."  "  Do  you 
feel  reconciled  ?  "  asked  a  friend  of  the  dying 
Payson.  "  Oh  !  that  is  too  cold,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  rejoice,  I  triumph.  And  this  happiness 
will  endure  as  long  as  God  Himself,  for  it 
consists  in  admiring  and  adoring  Him."  Or 
as  a  few  days  before  he  wrote  to  his  sister, 
"  Were  I  to  adopt  the  figurative  language  of 
Bunyan,  I  might  date  this  letter  from  the  land 
of  Beulah,  of  which  I  have  been  for  some  weeks 
a  happy  inhabitant.  The  celestial  city  is 
full  in  my  view.  Its  glories  beam  upon  me, 
its  breezes  fan  me,  its  odours  are  wafted  to 
me,  its  sounds  strike  upon  my  ears,  and  its 
spirit  is  breathed  into  my  heart.  Nothing 
separates  me  from  it  but  the  river  of  death, 
d2 


v30  EMBLEMS  FRO:^r  EDEN. 

which  now  appears  but  as  an  insignificant 
rill,  that  may  be  crossed  at  a  single  step, 
whenever  God  shall  give  permission.  The 
Sun  of  Righteousness  has  been  gradually 
drawing  nearer  and  nearer,  and  now  he  fills 
the  whole  hemisphere,  pouring  forth  a  flood 
of  glory,  in  which  I  seem  to  float  like  an 
insect  in  the  beams  of  the  sun,  exulting  yet 
almost  trembling,  while  I  gaze  on  this  exces- 
sive brightness,  and  wondering  with  unutter- 
able wonder  why  God  should  deign  thus  to 
shine  upon  a  sinful  worm." 

A  frame  of  mind  like  this  is  the  vestibule 
of  heaven  ;  and  as  it  is  in  acquaintance  with 
Christ  that  such  blessedness  began,  so  it  is 
in  closer  communion  with  the  Saviour  that 
this  blessedness  expands  and  becomes  the  joy 
of  a  glorified  existence.  "  To  him  that  over- 
oometh  will  I  grant  to  eat  of  the  tree  of  life, 
which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  Paradise  of  God." 
The  Tree  of  Life  is  transplanted,  and  the  old 
Eden  is  extinct  ;  but  for  His  ransomed  God 
has  provided  some  better  thing  than  that 
ancient  Paradise.  In  the  fair  climes  of  that 
celestial  country  there  is  reproduced  in  a 
more  exalted  rendering  all  that  was  bright 


THE  TREE  OFL  IFE.  ol 

ar.d  beaiiiiful  in  Adam's  native  garden,  with 
this  unspeakable  enhancement  that  probation 
and  peril  are  for  ever  past  and  all  is  now 
fruition.  There  is  no  more  curse,  and  the 
tears  with  which  our  first  parents  quitted 
their  aboriginal  bowers  and  which  since  then 
have  been  so  often  shed  in  quitting  a  loved 
home  or  familiar  haunts,  will  be  wiped  away 
on  entering  a  scene  whence  the  inhabitant 
knows  that  he  will  go  no  more  out.  The 
presence  of  God  is  no  longer  limited  to  the 
cool  of  the  day,  but  is  itself  the  day-spring 
of  the  glad  eternity, — the  palpable  pervasion 
and  immortal  sunshine  of  the  holy  place;  and 
"  there  is  no  night  there."  Nor  can  sin  ever 
enter.  No  serpent  can  scale  the  brilliant 
battlements,  or  cross  the  crystal  river,  or 
glide  through  the  green  pastures  of  that  blood- 
bought  Paradise ;  and  the  flaming  sword 
which  let  the  ransomed  sinner  pass,  ^nly 
shuts  out  the  tempter  and  the  fear  of  evil. 
Knowing  as  they  are  known,  overwhelmed 
with  the  beatific  vision  and  all  those  disclo- 
sures which  it  wnll  require  eternity  to  study 
and  comprehend,  there  will  be  no  inducement 
to  snatch  forbidden  fruit  or  intrude  into  hid- 


32  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

den  mysteries  ;  and  now.  that  the  cherub-sen- 
tinel has  changed  his  station,  and  now  that 
the  Tree  of  Life  grows  on  either  side  the 
river,  now  that  there  is  no  barrier  of  flesh 
and  blood  to  interrupt  communion  with  the 
Saviour,  and  no  sin  to  hinder  access, — the 
denizen  of  that  free  and  forgiven  country 
may  spend  a  celestial  noon  beneath  the  balmy 
shadow,  and  for  holier  services  and  yet  higher 
praise  may  quaff  from  the  clustered  boughs 
fresh  draughts  of  immortal  vigour. 


THE  VINE. 


**  Unity  in  diversity"  is  a  principle  by  which 
the  entire  creation  is  pervaded ;  and,  as  the 
Former  of  the  universe  is  the  Father  of  our 
spirits,  He  has  adapted  the  one  to  the  other ; 
and  whilst  the  variety  is  a  source  of  imme- 
diate and  universal  enjoyment,  the  oneness 
which  underlies  that  variety  is  to  the  more 
thoughtful  minds  at  once  the  germ  of  poetry 
and  the  root  of  natural  religion. 

However  distinct,  and  at  first  sight  dis- 
similar, the  objects  may  appear,  a  closer  in- 
spection always  reveals  a  latent  identity. 
They  are  the  filling-up  of  one  great  plan ; 
they  bear  the  stamp  of  the  self-same  Intel- 
ligence. And  this  ultimate  identity  running 
through  the  multiform  creation  forces  on  our 
minds  the  conviction  that  the  Creator  is  one, 


34  EMBLEMS  FUOil  EDEN. 

whilst  it  reveals  His  varied  benevolence  and 
His  boundless  resources.  As  in  the  expe- 
riment where  the  philosopher  sowed  seeds 
which  grew  up  green  letters,*  the  materials 
with  which  the  Eternal  writes  His  name  may 
vary ;  but  the  style  of  the  hand-writing  is 
evermore  the  same.  And  whether  in  illumi- 
nated characters  He  paints  it  on  the  field,  or 
in  starry  alphabet  bids  it  flame  from  the  fjice 
of  the  firmament ;  whether  He  works  it  in  the 
curious  mosaic  of  a  shell,  or  in  Hebrew  letters 
inscribes  it  on  tables  of  stone,  Devotion  recog- 
nises its  Heavenly  Father's  Hand  and  adores 
the  matchless  autograph. 

The  same  principle  in  the  creation,  with  the 
corresponding  propensity  in  our  own  minds, 
accounts  for  the  force  which  all  feel  in  analo- 
gical reasoning,  and  the  delight  which  most 
persons  derive  from  metaphorical  language. 

Deep  in  our  nature  there  exists  a  tendency 
to  seek  amongst  all  interesting  objects  points 
of  resemblance ;  and  when  some  intuition 
keener  than  our  own  reveeils  that  resemblance, 
we  bow  to  its  truth  or  acclaim  to  its  beauty. 
For  instance,  when  human  life  is  compared  to 
*  Dr.  Beattie. 


THE  VINE.  35 

the  course  of  a  river, — cradled  in  the  moss- 
fringed  fountain,  tripping  gaily  through  its 
free  and  babbling  infanc}',  swelling  into  proud 
and  impetuous  youth,  burdened  with  the  great 
ships  in  its  sober  and  utilitarian  manhood, 
and  then  merging  in  the  ocean  of  eternity, — 
who  is  there  that  does  not  sec  the  resemblance, 
and  in  seeing  it  find  his  mind  richer  by  at 
least  one  bright  thought?  There  may  be 
little  resemblance  betwixt  a  clouded  sky  and 
the  human  countenance ;  and  yet,  when  that 
sky  opens  and  lets  through  the  sunshine,  we 
say  that  it  is  smiling,  and  when  that  dull 
countenance  opens  and  lets  out  the  soul  we 
say  that  it  is  shining ;  and  in  the  metaphor 
we  feel  that  we  have  given  a  new  animation 
to  the  sun,  a  new  glory  to  "  the  human  face 
divine." 

This  tendency  to  metaphor,  and  the  uni- 
versal delight  in  parables,  comparisons,  and 
figures  of  speech,  are  no  mere  freaks  of  man's 
fancy.  They  have  their  foundation  in  the 
mind  and  method  of  Deity,  whose  thoughts  are 
all  in  harmony,  and  whose  works  and  ways 
are  all  connected  with  one  another,  so  that 
what  we  call  the  imagination  of  the  poet,  if 


36  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

his  reading  be  correct,  is  really  the  logic  of 
Omniscience.  And  -without  expatiating  far- 
ther on  the  subject  at  present,  we  may  here 
recall  the  fact  that  already  the  universe  con- 
tains one  masterpiece  of  Infinite  Wisdom,  in 
whom  all  the  diversities  coexist  and  make  up 
one  matchless  unity.  In  Christ,  at  once  very 
God  and  very  man,  the  Father  of  Eternity, 
and  yet  for  a  season  the  tenant  of  the  tomb  ; 
in  Christ,  with  His  glorified  materialism  and 
prai-material  divinity,  our  Brother,  and  yet 
the  Son  of  the  Highest,  the  Root  and  yet  the 
Offspring  of  David,  we  have  the  substance  of 
all  shadows,  the  conciliation  of  all  opposites, 
the  acme  of  every  excellence,  the  pinnacle  of 
every  perfection,  the  glorious  and  ultimate 
Unity  in  whom  centre  and  coexist  the  whole 
of  Creation's  boundless  diversities.  Like  crea- 
tures flying  through  the  night,  we  touch  what 
feels  at  first  a  separate  leaf  or  a  solitary  plant, 
but  it  proves  to  be  the  outmost  twig  of  a  great 
tree.  Traced  down  a  little  way,  the  little  twig 
joins  another,  and  both  together  spring  from 
a  branch,  which  followed  out  is  found  with 
its  twin  branch  to  issue  from  a  goodly  bough, 
till  at  last  all  branchinprs  and  bifurcations 


THE  VINE.  ^7 

conduct  you  back  to  the  ultimate  unity  in 
the  common  trunk  and  central  stem.  So, 
every  object  in  Nature,  and  every  incident 
in  Providence,  however  isolated  it  may  appear 
for  a  moment,  is  found  to  have  relations  which 
link  it  to  some  other,  and  these  again  have  a 
connexion  which  leads  back  to  something 
deeper  and  still  more  intimate  ;  till  at  last  in 
the  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  tree  of  Life  Him- 
self, you  reach  the  source  of  all  variety  and 
the  centre  of  each  divergence,  the  counterpart 
to  every  Hebrew  type  and  the  key  to  Nature's 
mighty  emblem. 

If  these  views  arc  correct, — if  the  Person  of 
Immanuel  is  that  adorable  Unity  which  within 
itself  includes  and  harmonises  all  diversities 
of  goodness  and  beauty,  we  see  that  there  is 
a  foundation  in  the  nature  of  things  for  the 
typical  instruction  so  abundant  in  Scripture, 
and  we  perceive  with  what  significance  it  was 
that  Jesus  said  of  Himself,  "  I  am  the  true 
Vine."  •  In  applying  the  types  or  expounding 
the  symbols  of  Holy  Writ,  we  may  fall  into 
errors  of  detail,  but  we  are  still  secure  in  the 
general  principle.  And  if  wc  study  them 
rightly,   they  will  confer  a  double   benefit. 


38  EMULEHS  FROM  EDEN. 

Like  Jacob-,  when  liis  pillovv^  of  rock  became 
tlie  first  step  in  a  staircase  wliich  ascemled  to 
God  and  tlie  angels,  they  will  make  the  stones 
of  the  field  the  starting-point  of  holy  medita- 
tions, and  will  fill  the  landscapes  of  earth  with 
light  from  Heaven. 

^Yere  you  going  early  in  the  year  to  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine,  you  would  see  the  people 
on  every  slope  busied  about  some  important 
plant.  To  your  nearer  view  it  looks  little 
better  than  a  wooden  peg,  a  dead  and  sapless 
pin.  But  return  in  September,  and  you  will 
find  that  the  wintry  peg  has  shot  into  a  pillar 
of  verdure,  and  from  purple  bunches  is  pour- 
ing fatness  and  frngrance  on  the  soil.  The 
shout  of  the  vintage  and  the  brimniing  vat 
explain  the  labours  of  the  spring. 

On  the  hills  of  Palestine  the  Heavenly 
Husbandman  planted  a  goodly  vine.  But  at 
first  it  had  no  form  nor  comeliness,  and  pro- 
mised little.  It  was  a  root  out  of  a  dry 
ground,  and  few  expected  that  it  would  come 
to  anything.  And  v»dien  its  heavenly  origin 
was  hinted,  in  a  rage  the  men  of  Nazaretli 
■cast  it  over  their   vineyard- wall,   and  soon 


THE  VINE.  39 

afterwards  tlie  men  of  Jerusalem  took  the 
tender  Plant,  and  having  bruised  and  tram- 
pled it  under  their  indignant  feet,  they  hoped 
that  they  had  destroyed  it  for  ever.  But  the 
Heavenly  Husbandman  did  not  lose  sight  of 
it.  He  planted  it  again.  This  time,  how- 
ever, He  concealed  it  from  view.  He  so  con- 
trived, that  though  the  branches  were  seen, 
the  vine-stock  should  no  longer  be  visible. 
Grafts  might  be  joined  to  it  and  fruit  might 
be  gathered,  but  the  stem  itself  was  hidden. 

A  few  weeks  passed  on,  and  a  warm  rain 
fell.  A  sweet  and  springy  odour  filled  the 
air.  It  was  the  budding  of  the  invisible 
Vine.  It  was  the  tender  grape  appearing. 
There  were  thousands  of  blossoms ;  and  from 
year  to  year  thereafter  there  was  many  a 
glorious  vintage.  And  though  rude  days 
have  followed ;  though  the  passengers  have 
plucked  it,  and  the  persecutor  has  often  torn 
the  branches  and  burnt  them  in  the  fire,  the 
Lord  of  Hosts  will  ere  long  return  and  visit 
this  His  Vine.  He  will  cast  out  the  heathen 
and  plant  it.  He  will  prepare  room  before 
it,  and  cause  it  to  take  deep  root,  and  fill  the 
earth.     The  hills  of  the  Millennium  will    be 


40         EMBLEMS  FRO:.I  EDEN. 

covered  with  its  shade,  and  the  boughs  thereof 
will  be  like  the  goodly  cedars. 

This  earth  was  the  land  of  the  curse  —  it 
was  the  world  of  sin,  death,  and  sorrow, — 
when  God  sent  His  Son.  He  freighted  the 
Mediator's  person  with  life,  righteousness, 
peace  of  conscience,  and  every  mercy  that  a 
sinner  needs.  "  As  the  Father  hath  life  in 
Himself,  so  did  He  give  to  the  Son  to  have 
life  in  Himself,"  and  thus  furnished  with  an 
abundance  of  life,  He  sent  the  Only-Begotten 
into  the  world.  But  the  world  hated  Him. 
It  saw  nothing  attractive  in  Him.  It  rejected 
the  Saviour.  It  slew  Him.  But  God  raised 
Him  again,  and  withdrew  Him  out  of  niorta;! 
sight.  Though  now  hidden  from  our  view, 
He  remains  what  He  was  during  the  days  of 
His  visible  Incarnation.  He  is  still  the  Saviour. 
He  is  still  the  sole  repository  of  heavenly 
blessings  for  our  guilty  and  necessitous  race. 
Though  invisible,  He  is  the  great  Vine -stock 
in  which  all  merit  and  spiritual  vitality  reside. 
It  is  from  His  fulness  that  salvation  is  derived, 
and  only  from  the  grace  that  is  in  Him  that 
we  can  get  anything  gracious.  Though  Him- 
self unseen.  His  members  are  visible.     Be- 


THE  VINE.  41 

lievers  are  tlie  brandies  of  this  wondrous 
Vine.  At  Pentecost  they  were  freshest  and 
fairest.  They  are,  perhaps,  equally  numerous, 
but  more  sparse  and  straggling  noAv.  But  to 
see  the  goodly  Vine  in  its  glory,  \vc  must  wait 
till  the  present  winter  is  past,  and  the  summer 
of  the  cartli  is  come  ;  till  for  pardon  and  peace 
willing  millions  resort  to  Immanuel,  and  the 
rejected  Koot  has  become  the  Plant  of  Renown. 
Those  whom-  Christ  originally  addressed 
were  fond  of  parables,  and  there  was  no  in- 
struction v.'hich  they  more  enjoyed  than  that 
which  was  conveyed  in  emblems  and  figures. 
But  perhaps  your  mind  has  no  turn  for  meta- 
phor. You  are  rather  confused  than  assisted 
by  it.  You  have  difficulty  in  following  an 
allegory  where  people  are  compared  to  the 
branches  of  a  Vine  ;  and  when  Christ  speaks 
of  a  man  being  a  branch  "in  Himself," 
and  of  "abiding  in  Himself,"*  you  do  not 
clearly  apprehend  it.  But  with  a  little  con- 
sideration you  will  easily  make  out  the  main 
idea.  Christ  compares  Himself  to  a  Vine,  and 
when  you  remember  what  a  glad  and  lifesome 
tree  it  is, —  the  tree  through  which  vegetative 
*  See  John,  xv.  1-10. 
e2 


42  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN 

vigour  pours  the  fastest  and  most  freely,  and 
the  tree  with  which  the  most  refreshful  and 
exulting  associations  were  connected ;  and 
when  you  farther  recollect  that  it  was  to  bring 
abundance  of  life  and  felicity  that  Jesus  came 
into  the  world,  you  can  see  how  naturally  in 
this  "  Tree  of  Life"  Jesus  found  the  emblem 
of  Himself.  But  this  detached  and  independ- 
ent vine-sapling  which  I  hold  in  my  hand, — 
how  is  it  to  be  made  partaker  of  the  life  and 
fatness  of  the  living  vine  ?  By  creating  the 
closest  connexion  possible.  You  engraft  it. 
You  take  this  leafless  rod,  and  you  insert  it 
in  the  quick  vine-stock,  and  speedily  the 
graft  has  taken.  Fibre  by  fibre,  and- vein 
by  vein  the  sapling  clings  and  coheres,  till 
the  life  of  the  tree  is  the  life  of  this  adopted 
branch,  and  the  graft  buds  and  blossoms  and 
matures  its  clusters  from  the  flowing  juices  of 
the  vine.  And  Jesus  "  has  life  in  Himself." 
He  is  now  a  man  of  joys.  He  knows  that  the 
Father  loves  Him,  and  having  completed  the 
work  given  Him  to  do.  He  rests  again  in  the 
Father's  bosom,  secure  in  the  Father's  com- 
placency, and  most  blessed  for  evermore.  But 
here  is  a  dead  and  sapless  soul,  here  is  a 


THE  VINE.  43 

spirit  to  which  holy  joy  is  a  stranger,  and 
to  which  God  is  still  unknown  as  a  reconciled 
God  and  a  loving  Father.  How  is  this  dead 
and  dreary  soul  to  be  made  partaker  of  Christ's 
life  and  joy  ?  By  creating  the  closest  possible 
connexion.  That  sapless  twig  lives  when 
united  to  the  Vine.  That  sinner  lives  when 
united  to  the  Saviour.  But  what  is  the  closest 
possible  connexion  between  the  sinner  and  the 
Saviour?  It  is  such  a  connexion  as  joins 
soul  to  soul.  It  is  such  a  connexion  as  joins 
the  feeble  and  finite  soul  of  the  sinner  to 
the  holy  and  Divine  soul  of  the  Saviour.  It 
is  such  a  union  as  confidence  and  love,  con- 
geniality and  dependence,  create.  It  is  con- 
fidence, — for  Jesus  died  that  He  might  bring 
us  unto  God,  and  Avhen  a  soul  is  persuaded 
that  Jesus  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost 
and  resigns  itself  entirely  to  Him  as  a  suffi- 
cient Saviour, — the  soul  which  thus  clings 
to  Christ  for  salvation  is  by  God  regarded  as 
one  with  Christ.  A  soul  which  trusts  in  the 
Surety  will  never  come  into  condemnation, 
for  the  Surety  would  thereby  be  condemned ; 
and  a  soul  which  cleaves  to  the  Lord  Jesus 
for  pardon  is  justified  alrciady,  for  it  is  now 


44  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

part  of  that  Substitute  who  was  justified 
long  ago.  And  this  union  is  love.  You  speak 
of  souls  that  are  knit  together  when  they  are 
affectionately  attached  to  one  another;  and 
Christ  and  the  Christian  are  joined  by  an 
intense,  mutually-pervading,  and  death-sur- 
viving love.  Accordingly,  He  Himself  calls 
this  union  a  "  continuance  in  His  love."  And 
it  is  congeniality.  When  tastes  are  identical, 
when  persons  love  the  same  things  and  hate 
the  same  things,  when  desires  move  in  concert, 
when  the  one  treasures  up  the  other's  words 
and  tries  to  anticipate  the  other's  wishes,  you 
say  that  hearts  in  such  harmony  are  one  spirit. 
And  it  is  one  spirit  which  fills  Christ  and  the 
Christian  —  Christ's  '.'words  abide  in  him" 
(ver.  7).  There  is  many  an  endeared  saying 
of  his  Lord  hidden  in  his  fondest  memory. 
And  these  sayings  of  Christ  do  not  merely 
alight  on  him  like  rain  on  the  vineyard,  but 
live  and  abide  in  him  like  vital  sap  in  the 
Vine.  And  these  loved  sayings  and  abiding 
words  come  out  in  new  obedience  (ver.  10), 
"If  ye  keep  my  commandments,  ye  shall 
abide  in  my  love."  And  it  is  dependence. 
Where  parties  are  united  in  any  way  to  one 


THE  VINE.  45 

anotlici',  one  of  whom  is  greatly  superior  in 
strength,  or  wisdom,  or  skill,  it  becomes 
natural  and  inevitable .  for  the  inferior  to 
depend  on  the  strength,  or  wisdom,  or  skill 
of  that  other.  Now  the  believer  finds  him- 
self so  weak,  and  ignorant,  and  sinful,  that 
he  is  compelled  to  look  to  his  Lord,  in  whom 
all  these  resources  abound.  Without  Christ 
he  can  do  nothing.  But  he  has  learned  to 
lean  on  Him,  who  of  God  is  made  to  him 
wisdom,  righteousness,  and  sanctification. 
Without  Christ  he  cannot  pacify  an  offended 
God ;  without  Christ  he  cannot  escape  the 
curse  of  a  broken  law;  without  Christ  he 
can  do  nothing  to  deliver  himself  from  hell, 
nor  secure  his  persevering  progress  to  heaven ; 
without  Christ  he  cannot  subdue  a  single  sin 
nor  overcome  a  single  temptation.  He  dis- 
covers that  it  needs  an  Almighty  power  to 
sanctify.  "  It  needs  the  same  power  to  en- 
lighten his  understanding  as  gave  sight  to 
blind  Bartimeus ;  it  needs  the  same  power  to 
quiet  his  conscience  as  said  to  the  tempest, 
Peace,  be  still ;  it  needs  the  same  power  to 
soften  his  hard  and  stony  heart  as  melted 
rivers  from  the  rock ;  the  same  power  to  con- 


46  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

vert  his  carnal  affections  into  spiritual  as 
changed  the  water  into  wine ;  the  same  to 
subdue  his  rcbelliouiS  passions  as  expelled  the 
devils  from  the  man  possessed ;  and  the  same 
power  to  make  him  pure  of  heart  and  fit  for 
glorj  as  made  the  leper  clean."*  And  for  all 
holj  obedience,  he  verifies  the  saying  of  Jesus, 
"  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself, 
except  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  ye, 
except  ye  abide  in  me." 

Wherever  a  soul  believes  in  Jesus,  loves 
Him,  is  made  one  spirit  with  Him,  and  depends 
on  Him  for  wisdom,  strength,  and  righteous- 
ness, that  soul  is  united  to  Jesus.  That  soul 
is  in  the  Saviour,  even  as  the  branch  is  in  the 
Vine ;  that  soul  is  dear  to  God.  It  is  accepted 
in  the  Beloved,  and  becomes  an  object  of  the 
Father's  solicitude  and  care.  And  it  will 
experience  the  benefits  of  this  union.  It  will 
be  fruitful ;  it  will  be  purified ;  it  will  bo 
powerful  in  prayer  ;  for  if  union  to  Jesus  be 
salvation, — productiveness,  sanctification,  and 
prevalency  in  prayer,  are  effects  of  this  union 
which  He  Himself  has  specified. f 

*  Clarkson's  Sermons,  folio,  p.  482. 
t  John,  XV.  5,  2,  7. 


THE  VINE.  47 

1.  The  living  branch  is  fruitful.  Tho 
chemist  who  can  analyse  the  fruit  of  the  vine 
finds  many  ingredients  there.  Of  these  no 
single  one,  nor  any  two  together,  would  form 
the  juice  of  the  grape ;  but  the  combination 
of  all  yields  the  polished  and  delicious  berry, 
which  every  one  knows  so  well.  In  different 
climates,  and  even  in  diifcrent  seasons,  the 
proportion  and  blending  of  these  constituents 
may  vary,  but  that  is  not  a  good  cluster 
where  any  is  v/anting.  The  fruit  of  the  true 
Vine  has  also  been  analysed,  and  in  tlie  best 
specimens  the  nine  following  ingredients  are 
found  (Gal.  v.  22)  :— 

LOVii:,  GENTLENESS, 

JOY,  GOODNESS, 

PEACE,  FAITH, 

LONG-SUFFEPvING,  MEEKNESS, 

TEMPERANCE. 

In  poor  samples  there  is  a  deficiency  of  one 
or  other  of  these  elements.  A  dry  and  dimi- 
nutive sort  is  lacking  in  peace  and  joy.  A 
tart  kind,  wliicli  sets  the  teeth  on  edge,  owes 
its  austerity  to  its  scanty  infusion  of  gentle- 
ness, goodness,  and  meekness.  There  is  a 
watery,  deliquescent  sort,  which  for  the  want 


48  EJIDLEMS  FROil  EDEN. 

of  long-siifFering  is  not  easily  preserved  ;  and 
there  is  a  flat  variety,  which  having  no  body 
of  faith  or  temperance,  answers  few  useful 
purposes.  Love  is  the  essential  principle 
which  is  in  no  case  entirely  absent ;  and  by  the 
glistening  fulness  and  rich  aroma  which  its 
plentiful  presence  creates,  you  can  recognise 
the  freshest  and  most  generous  clusters;  whilst 
the  predominance  of  some  other  element  gives 
to  each  its  distinguishing  flavour,  and  marks 
the  growth  of  Eshcol,  Sibmah,  or  Lebanon. 

(1.)  Wherever  there  is  union  to  Christ 
there  is  love.  This,  as  we  have  said,  is  the 
essential  principle.  Whatever  else  there  be, 
if  there  be  not  love,  it  profits  nothing,  it 
proves  nothing.  Love  to  God  and  our  neigh- 
bour is  the  essence  of  piety.  It  is  the  body, 
the  basis,  the  staple  clement ;  and  if  the  great 
commandment,  and  the  next  greatest  be  ab- 
sent, whatever  else  there  be,  there  is  not 
Christianity.  Reader,  have  you  got  it  ?  To 
Christ's  question,  "Lovcst  thou  me?"  is  it 
your  answer,  "  Lord,  thou  knowcst  all  things, 
thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee?"  Then,  if 
you  love  Jesus,  you  will  love  Him  whose  ex- 
press image  Jesus  is.      To  God  in  Christ, 


THE  VINE.  49 

your  soul  will  bo  attaclied  in  gratitude,  sub- 
mission, and  complacency.  You  will  not  wish 
Him  less  lioh^,  less  rigliteous,  less  true.  Awed 
by  His  glorious  majesty,  and  melted  by  His 
ineffiible  mercy,  all  that  is  dust  and  ashes  in 
you  will  be  humbled,  and  all  that  is  devout 
and  filial  will  be  kindled  into  grateful  adora- 
tion. If  nothingness  and  sin  bid  you  be  silent, 
the  sight  of  your  Great  Representative  gone 
back  to  the  bosom  of  His  Father,  inspires 
you  with  a  joyful  assurance  and  a  humble 
confidence  Godward ;  and,  boldest  where  you 
are  most  abased,  beneath  the  Cross  you  learn 
to  cry,  Abba,  Father.  You  love  Him  who 
first  loved  you,  and  "  feeling  it  sweet  to  be  ac- 
cepted of  God  on  any  grounds,  to  be  accepted  in 
hir,  own  beloved  Son,  you  feel  is  sweeter  fjir."* 
(2.)  And  joy.  The  essence  of  love  is 
attachment.  Joy  is  the  happiness  of  love. 
It  is  love  exulting.  It  is  love  aware  of  its 
own  felicity,  and  rioting  in  riches  which  it 
has  no  fear  of  exhausting.  It  is  love  taking 
V  view  of  its  treasure,  and  surrendering  itself 
to  bliss  without  foreboding.  "  God's  promises 
:ippear  so  strong,  so  solid,  so  substantial,  more 
*  Nevins'  Remains,  p.  27. 
P 


50  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEX. 

SO  than  the  rocks  and  everlasting  hills ;  and 
His  perfections,  what  shall  I  say  of  tliem? 
When  I  think  of  one,  I  wish  to  dwell  upon  it 
for  ever ;  bat  another,  and  another  equally 
glorious,  claims  a  share  of  admiration  ;  and 
when  I  begin  to  praise,  I  wish  never  to  cease, 
but  to  find  it  the  commencement  of  that  song 
which  will  never  end.  Very  often  have  I 
felt  as  if  I  could  that  moment  throw  oiF  the 
body,  without  first  going  to  bid  them  farewell 
that  are  at  homo  in  my  house.  Let  who  will 
be  rich,  or  admired,,  or  prosperous,  it  is 
enough  for  rne  that  there  is  such  a  God  as 
Jehovah,  such  a  Saviour  as  Jesus,  and  that 
they  are  infinitely  and  unchangeably  glorious 
and  happy!"*  And  in  a  similar  frame  an- 
other felt,  "  Were  the  universe  destroyed, 
and  I  the  only  being  in  it  besides  God,  He  is 
fully  adequate  to  m}^  complete  happiness ;  and 
had  I  been  in  an  African  wood,  surrounded 
by  venomous  serpents,  and  devouring  beasts, 
and  savage  men,  in  such  a  frame  I  should  be 
the  subject  of  perfect  peace  and  exalted  joy."  f 
(3.)  Peace.     If  joy  be  love  exulting,  peace 

*  Payson's  Life,  cliap,  19. 
t  Memoirs  of  Rev.  S.  Pearce. 


THE  VINE.  51 

is  love  reposing.  It  is  love  on  the  green 
pastures,  it  is  love  beside  the  still  waters.  It 
is  that  great  calm  which  comes  over  the  con- 
science, when  it  sees  the  atonement  sulTicient 
and  the  Saviour  willing.  It  is  unclouded 
azure  in  a  lake  of  glass  ;  it  is  the  soul  which 
Christ  has  pacified,  spread  out  in  serenity  and 
simple  faith,  and  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and 
gracious,  smiling  over  it. 

(4.)  Long-suffering.  This  is  love  enduring. 
K  the  trial  come  direct  from  God,  it  is  enough. 
It  is  correction.  It  is  his  Heavenly  Father's 
hand,  and  v/ith  Luther  the  disciple  cries, 
"  Strike,  Lord,  strike.  But,  oh  !  do  not  for- 
sake me."  If  the  trial  come  from  Christian 
brethren,  till  it  be  seven-fold  seventy  times 
repeated,  love  to  Jesus  demands  forgiveness. 
If  it  come  from  worldly  men,  it  is  the  occasion 
for  that  magnanimity  which  recompenses  evil 
with  good.  And  in  every  case,  it  is  an 
opportunity  for  following  a  Saviour  whom 
sufferings  made  perfect.  That  Saviour  never 
loved  the  Father  more  intensely,  than  when 
His  Father's  face  was  hid,  and  when  the  bitter 
cup  proclaimed  His  justice  terrible,  and  His 
truth  severe.     One  apostle  denied  Him,  and 


o2  EMBLEMS  FKOM  EDEN. 

all  the  disciples  forsook  Ilim ;  but  Jesus  prayed 
for  Peter,  whilst  Peter  was  cursing,  and  His 
love  followed  the  rest,  even  when  they  were 
running  away.  Jerusalem  killed  Him ;  but 
in  foresight  of  the  guilty  deed,  it  was  over 
Jerusalem  that  Jesus  wept;  and  when  the 
deed  was  done,  in  publishing  pardon  and  the 
peace  of  God,  it  was  at  Jerusalem  that  evan- 
gelists were  directed  to  begin. 

(5.)  Gentleness,  or  affectionateness.*  This 
is  love  in  society.  It  is  love  holding  inter- 
course w^ith  those  around  it.  It  is  that  cor- 
diality of  aspect,  and  that  soul  of  speech, 
which  assure  us  that  kind  and  earnest  hearts 
may  still  be  met  with  here  below.  It  is  that 
quiet  influence  which,  like  perfumed  flame 
from  an  alabaster  lamp,  fills  many  a  home 
with  light  and  warmth  and  fragrance  all 
together.  It  is  the  carpet,  soft  and  deep, 
which,  whilst  it  diffuses  a  look  of  ample  com- 
fort, deadens  many  a  creaking  sound.  It  is 
the  curtain  which  from  many  a  beloved  form, 
wards  off  at  once  the  summer's  glow,  and  the 
winter's  wind.  It  is  the  pillow  on  which 
sickness  lays  its  head   and  forgets  half  its 


THE  VINE.  53 

misery,  and  to  wliicli  death  comes  in  a  balmier 
dream.  It  is  considerateness.  It  is  tender- 
ness  of  feeling.  It  is  warmth  of  affection. 
It  is  promptitude  of  sympathy.  It  is  love  in 
all  its  depth,  and  all  its  delicacy.  It  is  every 
melting  thing  included  in  that  matchless 
grace,  "the  gentleness  of  Christ."* 

(6.)  Goodness  or  beneficence.  Love  in 
action,  love  Avith  its  hand  at  the  plough,  love 
with  the  burden  on  its  back.  It  is  love  carry- 
ing medicine  to  the  sick,  and  food  to  the 
famished.  It  is  love  reading  the  Bible  to  the 
blind,  and  explaining  the  Gospel  to  the  felon 
in  his  cell.  It  is  love  at  the  Sunday  class,  or 
in  the  Ragged-school.  It  is  love  at  the  hovel- 
door,  or  sailing  far  away  in  the  missionary 
ship.  But  Avhatever  task  it  undertakes,  it  is 
still  the  same, — Love  following  His  footsteps, 
"  who  went  about  continually  doing  good." 

(7.)  Faith.  Vriiether  it  means  trust  in 
God,  or  fidelity  to  principle  and  duty.  Faith 
is  love  in  the  battle-field.  It  is  constancy 
following  hard  after  God,  v.hen  the  world 
drags  downward,  and  the  flesh  cries,  '•  Halt." 
It  is  zeal  holding  fast  sound  words  when  fer- 
*  2  Cor.  X.  1. 
f2 


54  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

vour  is  costly  and  sound  words  are  obnoxious. 
It  is  firmness  marching  through  fire  and 
through  water  to  the  post  where  duty  calls 
and  the  captain  waits.  It  is  Elijah  before 
Ahab.  It  is  Stephen  before  the  Sanhedrim. 
It  is  Luther  at  Worms.  It  is  the  martyr  in 
the  flames.  Nay,  it  is  a  greater  than  all. —  it 
is  Jesus  in  the  desert.*  It  is  Jesus  in  Gethse- 
mane.  It  is  Jesus  on  the  cross.  And  it  is 
whosoever  pursuing  the  path,  or  finishing  the 
work  which  God  has  given  him,  like  the  great 
Forerunner,  does  not  fear  to  die. 

(8.)  Meekness  is  love  at  school, — love  at 
the  Saviour's  school.  It  is  Christian  lowli- 
hood.  It  is  the  disciple  learning  to  know 
himself;  learning  to  fear,  and  distrust,  and 
abhor  himself.  It  is  the  disciple  practising 
the  sweet  but  self-emptying  lesson  of  putting 
on  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  finding  all  his  righte- 
ousness in  that  righteous  Other.  It  is  the 
disciple  learning  the  defects  of  his  own  cha- 
racter, and  taking  hints  from  hostile  as  well 
as  friendly  monitors.  It  is  the  disciple  pray- 
ing and  watching  for  the  improvement  of  his 
talents,  the  mellowing  of  his  temper,  and  the 
*  Matt.  iv.  l-ll. 


THE  VINE.  55 

amelioration  of  his  character.  It  is  the  loving 
Christian  at  the  Saviour's  feet,  learning  of 
Him  who  is  meek  and  lowly,  and  finding  rest 
for  his  own  soul. 

(9.)  Temperance, — Love  in  the  gymnasium, 
love  enduring  hardness,  love  seeking  to  be- 
come healthful  and  athletic,  love  striving 
for  the  mastery  in  all  things,  and  bringing 
the  body  under.  It  is  superiority  to  sen- 
sual delights,  and  it  is  the  power  of  ap- 
plying resolutely  to  irksome  duties  for  the 
Master's  sake.  It  is  self-denial  and  self- 
control.  Fearful  lest  it  should  subside  to 
gross  carnality,  or  waste  away  into  shadowy 
and  hectic  sentiment,  temperance  is  love  alert 
and  timeously  astir ;  sometimes  rising  before 
day  for  prayer,  sometimes  spending  that  day 
on  tasks  which  laziness  or  daintiness  declines. 
It  is  love  with  girt  loins,  and  dusty  feet,  and 
hands  which  work  makes  horny.  It  is  love 
with  the  empty  scrip  but  the  glowing  cheek, 
— love  subsisting  on  pulse  and  water,  but 
grown  so  healthful  and  so  hardy,  that  it 
"  beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things, 
hoiXJth  all  things,  endurcth  all  things." 

Header,  if  you   abide  in   Jesus, — if  His 


56  EilBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

words  abide  in  you,  you  will  be  neither  bar- 
ren nor  unfruitful.  Graces  such  as  these  will 
be  in  you,  and  abound.  Is  it  so  ?  The  great 
vine-principle,  the  main  element  of  the  Christ- 
ian character,  holy  love,  does  it  abound  in 
you  ?  And  blending  with  it,  tinging  it  and 
deriving  sweetness  from  it,  can  you  detect 
froin  time  to  time  joy  in  God,  peace  of  con- 
science, patience  in  suffering,  and  forgiveness 
of  injury,  affectionateness,  beneficence,  trust 
in  God,  and  trustworthiness  in  your  place  and 
calling,  a  lowly  willingness  to  learn  and  a  rea- 
diness to  take  up  the  cross  and  deny  yourself? 
When  Christians  live  close  to  Christ  His  mind 
is  transfused  into  theirs.  "  Purity  and  love 
shine  forth  in  their  character  :  meekness  and 
truth  guide  their  footsteps.  Nay,  in  the 
experience  of  some,  so  great  has  been  the 
change,  that  the  very  expression  of  their 
countenance  has  altered.  Thus  was  it  with 
Moses  and  Stephen.  These  blessed  saints 
were  full  of  God  ;  Christ  was  in  them  of  a 
truth;  and  his  likeness  was  thus  by  them 
peculiarly  reflected.  Nor  is  it  wonderful 
that  such  should  sometimes  be  the  case  with 
believers  j  for,  when  He  thus  fills  their  hearts 


THE  VINE.  57 

with  His  presence,  when  His  peace  dwells 
there;  when  the  calm  joy  which  He  felt, 
when  rejoicing  in  spirit,  reigns  there ;  there 
must  needs  be  gentleness  in  their  manners, 
and  heavenliness  in  their  talk,  and  meekness 
in  their  eye,  and  angelic  serenity  and  con- 
scious elevation  in  their  whole  countenance."* 
2.  Every  fruitful  branch  is  purged.  "  The 
husbandman  purgeth  it  that  it  may  bring 
forth  more  fruit."  It  is  the  propensity  of  even 
fruitful  branches  to  wanton  into  excessive 
foliage.  But  besides  spoiling  the  appearance 
of  the  vine,  the  sap  spent  on  the  leaves  is 
stolen  from  the  grapes,  and  the  excessive  shade 
keeps  out  the  sun.  The  husbandman  prunes 
these  shoots  and  suckers  away,  and  while  he 
makes  the  branch  more  sightly,  he  lets  the 
noon-beams  freely  in,  and  makes  the  clusters 
richer.  So  is  it  with  the  sincerest  Christians, 
In  prosperous  weather,  when  all  goes  well 
with  them,  they  are  apt  to  flaunt  out  in  world- 
liness,  and  luxury,  and  pride.  They  grow 
selfish.  They  study  their  own  ease.  They  seek 
great  things  for  themselves.    And  the  Hus- 

*  "  Thoughts  on  Union  to  Christ,"  by  Sosthenes. 
Edin.  1838,  p.  213. 


08  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

bandman,  watcliful  and  considerate,  consult- 
ing His  own  glory  and  the  fruitfulness  of  the 
Vine, —  the  Husbandman  comes,  and  with  the 
pruning-shears  of  some  afflictive  providence, 
lops  the  deforming  shoots  away. 

"  Man's  chief  end  is  to  glorify  God,  and 
enjoy  Him  for  ever."  This  Avas  the  thought 
which  conveyed  reproof  and  new"  quickening 
to  a  most  amiable  Christian,*  after  her  great- 
est bereavement.  "  I  felt  that  for  the  last 
twelve  years  I  had  misunderstood  the  great 
object  for  which  I  was  made ;  that,  if  not  my 
chief,  a  very  high  end  with  me  had  been  to  bo 
happy  in  my  husband  and  make  him  happy  in 
me.  But  now  I  felt  that  the  highest  happi- 
ness of  a  rational  mind  ought  to  arise,  from 
answering  the  purpose  for  which  God  made 
it ;  and  therefore  that  I  ought  to  be  happy  in 
glorifying  God,  and  not  in  enjoying  myself." 
And  it  is  to  this  result  that  every  trial  with 
which  God  visits  His  people  is  tending.  It  is 
to  shut  them  up  to  His  service  as  their  chief 
end,  and  to  Himself  as  their  chiefest  joy.  It 
is  not  to  hurt  but  to  heal  the  tree  that  the 
husbandman  handles  the  pruning-hook.  In 
*  Mrs.  Susan  Huntington. 


THE  VINE.  59 

deep  dejection  of  spirit,  ]Mr.  Cecil  was  pacing 
to  and  fro  in  tlie  Botanic  Garden  at  Oxford, 
wlien  lie  observed  a  fine  specimen  of  the 
pomegranate  almost  cut  through  the  stem.  On 
asking  the  gardener  the  reason,  he  got  an  an- 
swer which  explained  the  wounds  of  his  own 
bleeding  spirit.  "  Sir,  this  tree  used  to  shoot 
so  strong,  that  it  bore  nothing  but  leaves.  I 
Avas,  therefore,  obliged  to  cut  it  in  this  man- 
ner, and  when  it  w^as  almost  cut  through,  then 
it  began  to  bear  plenty  of  fruit."  Ye  suffer- 
ing members  of  Christ,  be  thankful  for  every 
sorrow  which  weakens  a  lust  or  strengthens  a 
grace.  Though  it  should  be  a  cut  to  the  heart, 
be  thankful  for  every  sin  and  idol  shorn  away. 
Be  thankful  for  whatever  makes  your  con- 
science more  tender,  your  thoughts  more 
spiritual,  and  your  character  more  consistent. 
Be  thankful  that  it  Avas  the  pruning-knife  and 
not  the  weeding-hook  which  you  felt :  for  if 
you  suffer  in  Christ,  you  suffer  with  Him; 
and  if  with  Him  you  suffer,  with  Him  you 
shall  also  reign. 

3.  A  third  consequence  of  abiding  in  Jesus 
is  prevalency  in  prayer.  "  If  ye  abide  in  me, 
and  ray  words  abide  in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what 


60  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEX. 

ye  will,  and  it  shall  be  done  unto  you.*'  One 
reason  is  that  Christ's  mind  and  the  Father's 
agree,  and  Christ's  mind  is  in  the  constant 
Cliristian.  His  will  is  merged  in  Christ's 
'will ;  and  instead  of  the  petulant  and  unrea- 
sonable requests  which  worldly  or  divided 
liearts  are  apt  to  urge,  a  holy  solicitude  for 
God's  glory  predominates  in  his  prayers.  The 
first  petition  which  his  jMaster  taught  him 
covers  and  qualifies  all  the  rest ;  and  whatso- 
ever he  may  ask  he  will  not  revoke  the  pri- 
mary behest,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  Hea- 
ven, hallowed  be  Thy  name."  The  believer 
who  abides  in  Jesus  obtains  answers  to  his 
prayers,  because  his  sanctified  will  is  apt  to 
desire  things  according  to  the  will  of  God. 
But  more  than  this,  abiding  in  Jesus  is  near- 
ness to  God.  The  man  who  knows  not  how 
to  use  the  Mediator's  name,  may  pray  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  or  under  the  urgency  of  present 
distress.  But  if  mere  duty  compel  him,  there 
is  no  comfort  nor  enlargement  in  the  formal 
exercise  ;  or  if  distress  constrain  him,  coming 
as  a  stranger,  there  is  no  confidence  in  his 
approach,  and  he  has  no  security  that  God  has 
lieard  liim.  He  stands  in  the  empty  vestibule, 


TIIK  VINK.  61 

and  without  obtaining  a  glance  of  the  Sove- 
reign, at  last  leaves  his  petition,  uncertain 
whether  it  shall  ever  reach  its  destination. 
The  sinner  who  comes  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
is  ushered  at  once  to  the  Throne  of  Grace, 
and  obtains  the  propitious  ear  of  an  all- 
sufficient  God.  And  the  sinner  who  abides 
in  Jesus,  who  habituallj  comes  in  the  Inter- 
cessor's name,  finds  in  prayer  not  only  en- 
trance to  the  palace  of  the  King,  but  access 
to  that  Father  whom  Clirist  has  taught  him 
to  regard  with  the  affectionate  security  and 
tender  reverence  of  a  child.  Prayer  is  his 
daily  visit  to  his  Heavenly  Fatlier's  dwelling — 
the  hallowed  chamber  whose  door  the  name 
of  Jesus  opens — the  sweet  and  endeared  closet 
where  day  by  day  he  has  told  his  griefs  and 
fears,  and  Avants  and  sins,  and  from  which  he 
has  oft  departed  rich  in  daily  grace  and  radiant 
in  his  Heavenly  Father's  smile. 

Reader,  beloved  and  longed-for,  have  you 
understood  these  things?  Do  you  not  allow- 
that  your  own  soul  is  naturally  fruitless  and 
lifeless  ?  Do  you  not  confess  that  you  have 
no  more  right  to  immortality,  and  no  more 
power  for  holiness,  than  the  severed  sapling 

G 


62  EMBLE^rS  FROM  EDEX. 

has  power  to  blossom  and  bear  fruit  so  long 
as  it  abides  alone  ?  But  do  you  equally  per- 
ceive that  Jesus  is  the  true  Vine  ?  Are  you 
persuaded  that  there  is  so  much  life  in  Him, 
that  if  you  could  only  share  His  life  you  would 
live  also  ?  so  much  merit  in  Him,  that  if  it 
could  only  be  made  your  own  you  would  be 
righteous  also  ?  so  much  holy  energy  in  Him, 
that  could  it  only  be  imparted  to  you,  you  too 
would  have  a  spiritual  mind,  and  would  delight 
in  doing  the  will  of  God  ?  Do  you  perceive 
that  Christ  Jesus  is  the  great  Kepository 
of  justifying  Righteousness  and  sanctifying 
grace  ?  Do  you  distinctly  realise  these  two 
things  —  that  you  yourself  are  empty,  and 
that  in  the  Lord  Jesus  all  fulness  dwells  ? 

But  how  is  the  empty  scion  to  profit  by 
the  teeming  Vine  ?  How  is  a  connexion  to 
be  created  betwixt  the  Mediator's  fulness  and 
your  own  vacuity?  How  is  it  that  Christ 
and  you  shall  become  so  truly  one  that  His 
beauty  shall  be  on  you  and  His  spirit  within 
you  ?  We  have  already  said  that  it  is  by  be- 
lieving Him,  loving  Him,  copying  from  Him, 
and  depending  on  Him.  A  shorter  answer  is 
His  own.  It  is  by  letting  Christ's  word  enter 


THE  VINE.  63 

and  abide.  The  disciples  were  made  genuine, 
"  clean," —  they  got  the  real  Vine-nature  from 
the  moment  when  they  admitted  Christ's 
words  into  willing  hearts.  And  you  too  will 
be  clean,  the  graft  will  strike,  from  the  mo- 
ment when  you  credit  the  word  of  Jesus. 
Should  you  credit  that  saying  of  Jesus, 
"  God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave  His 
only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth 
in  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlast- 
ing life ; "  or  should  you  comply  with  that 
other  saying  of  Jesus,  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye 
that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest ;"  should  you  abandon  yourself 
to  all  the  blessedness  of  believing  what  the 
True  Witness  says ;  should  you  suffer  your 
weary  soul  this  day  to  sink  into  the  arms  of 
that  Saviour  who  rejoices  to  pardon  and  is 
mighty  to  save — the  first  entrance  of  such  a 
word,  and  the  first  response  of  such  a  faith, 
would  be  the  date  of  your  better  life  and  the 
commencement  of  your  union  to  Christ. 

—  The  graft  has  taken.  At  first  the  junc- 
ture may  be  very  slight,  a  single  thread  or 
fibre ;  and  it  is  not  till  you  try  to  part  them 
that  you  find  that  they  are  knit  together — 


64  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

that  tlieir  life  is  one  —  and  tliat  the  force 
which  plucks  away  the  graft  must  also  wound 
the  Vine.  And  your  faith  may  yet  be  no 
more  than  a  single  filament.  It  may  be  only 
one  point  of  attachment  by  which  you  have 
got  joined  to  the  Lord  Jesus.  It  may  be 
only  one  solitary  sentence — one  isolated  invi- 
tation or  promise  of  which  you  have  got  un- 
doubting  hold.  But  hold  it  fast.  If  it  be 
the  word  of  Jesus  cling  to  it.  There  is  life 
in  it,  and,  held  fast,  it  will  be  life  to  you. 
One  promise  of  Jesus  credited,  one  invitation 
of  Jesus  accepted,  is  enough  to  make  such 
union  betwixt  Himself  and  you,  that  the  vio- 
lence which  sunders,  if  death  to  you,  would 
be  a  bleeding  heart  to  Him.  Hold  fast  the 
faithful  saying  then,  and  as  you  cling  to  it 
you  will  draw  closer  and  closer  to  the  living 
Vine.  The  surface  of  quick  contact  will  en- 
large, and  as  thread  by  thread,  and  vein  by 
vein  it  widens,  as  word  by  word  and  line  by 
line  the  sayings  of  Jesus  get  hidden  in  your 
heart,  the  tokens  of  vitality  will  become  to 
yourself  and  others  joyfully  distinct.  And 
though  you  may  fear  to-day  that  you  have 
no  interest  in  Christ — think  no  more  of  that  5 


THE  VINE.  65 

think  of  what  He  says.  Believe  Him  sted- 
fastly ;  and  as  sure  as  He  came  into  the  world 
to  save  sinners,  He  will  save  you.  Cleave  to 
His  assurances  in  all  their  breadth,  and  though 
you  may  feel  yourself  little  better  than  a  re- 
probate at  present,  you  will  be  a  trophy  of 
redeeming  grace  in  the  ages  to  come.  And 
though  you  see  no  fruits  of  the  Spirit  yet,  let 
Christ's  word  abide  in  you,  and  you  will  see 
them  anon.  And  though  you  dread  lest  the 
faint  hold  you  have  got  may  end  in  a  falling 
away,  hold  on  till  the  feeble  contact  of  this 
moment  grow  into  a  complete  coalescence,  and 
in  joyful  assurance  of  oneness  with  a  sin- 
pardoning  and  sanctifying  Saviour,  you  will 
be  able  to  exclaim,  "  I  am  persuaded  that  nei- 
ther death,  nor  life,  nor  principalities,  nor 
powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come, 
shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 


o2 


THE    CEDAR. 


The  rigliteous  shall  grow  like  the  cedar." 


Lebanon  has  sometimes  been  regarded  as  a 
typo  of  Jesus  Christ.  Among  surrounding 
mountains  the  loftiest  and  fairest,  it  may 
suggest  to  a  devout  and  willing  mind  that 
iMighty  One,  who  is  fairer  than  all  His  fel- 
lows.* Its  roots  of  everlasting  rock,  on  the 
one  side  struck  deep  in  Palestine,  and  on  the 
other  side  reaching  far  into  the  Pagan  lands, 
are  like  that  righteousness,  "great  as  the 
mountains,"  which  the  Con  of  God  wrought 
out  for  Jews  and  Gentilcs,f  and  like  the 
Rock  of  Ages  Himself,  amidst  His  supremacy 
of  power  and  wisdom,  still  partaker  with  His 
brethren.  The  streams  of  water  trickling 
down  its  slopes,  and  gushing  through  its  fra- 
grant glens,  may  give  a  hint  of  heavenly  iuflu- 
*  Vs.  xlv.  2,  t  Ps.  xxxvi.  6;  Rom.  i.  17. 


THE  CEDAK.  67 

ences,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  through  the 
Saviour's  wounded  side,  flowing  down  to 
redeemed  souls  and  onward  to  a  widening 
Church.  Its  coronet  of  snow,  glancing  in 
the  sunny  sky,  is  like  that  snowy  hair* — the 
halo  of  enshrined  Divinity— which  marks  the 
Son  of  Man  in  heaven ;  whilst  its  verdant 
ladder,  linking  heaven  to  earth,  brings  to 
remembrance  the  incarnation  and  Iramanuel, 
"  God  with  us."  The  corn  which  gilds  its 
ample  skirts,  the  vines  which  empurple  its 
royal  robe,  and  the  starry  blossoms  which 
spangle  it  all  over,  may  shadow  the  various 
joys  which  have  sprung  up  the  memorial  of 
Messiah's  advent.  But  it  is  not  the  corn  nor 
the  vine  nor  the  lily  which  is  the  glory  of 
Lebanon.  It  is  Lebanon  growing  and  waving 
and  scattering  fragrance  in  the  cedar, —  it  is 
the  vegetating  rock — the  arborescent  mount- 
ain,—  it  is  this  which  is  Lebanon's  glory. 
And  it  is  not  European  civilisation  and  the 
march  of  liberty  and  the  diffusion  of  refine- 
ment and  learning;  nor  are  they  the  inci- 
dental benefits  resulting  from  His  advent 
which  bring  the  brightest  lustre  to  the  name 
*  Rev.  i.  14. 


68  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

of  Jesus.  But  it  is  His  Spirit  embodied  — 
His  hidden  life  again  appearing  in  some  be- 
neficent, resolute,  lofty  believer,  —  it  is  the 
Christ-like  Christian  who  is  the  glorj  of 
Christ. 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  us  in  the  cedar 
is  the  firmness  of  its  root.  It  is  not  content 
to  drop  a  few  slack  fibres  into  the  yielding 
loam ;  but  it  thrusts  its  sturdy  wedge  into 
the  cloven  rock,  and  pushes  far  below  the 
brushwood  in  search  of  stronger  moorings; 
and  so  when  the  tempest  comes  down,  it 
springs  elastic  to  the  hurricane  on  its  but- 
tress of  subterraneous  boughs,  and  amid  all 
the  veerings  of  the  blast  finds  gallant  pur- 
chase in  its  network  of  cables.  The  cedar 
has  a  root.  The  Christian  has  faith.  He 
knows  whom  to  believe,  and  he  knows  that 
he  believes  Him.  He  is  well  persuaded  that 
Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Saviour  of 
sinners.  He  is  fully  assured  that  Christ's 
blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin,  and  has  efficacy 
enough  to  cancel  his  own.  He  knows  that 
Christ  ofiers  to  be  a  Saviour  to  himself,  and 
he  thankfully  consents  that  He  shall.  And 
as  his  mind  is  made  up  on  the  sin-atoning 


THE  OEDAK.  69 

efficacy  and  God- glorifying  tendency  of  the 
decease  accomplished  at  Jerusalem,  he  is 
equally  persuaded  of  the  surpassing  loveliness 
and  peerless  claims  of  Immanuel  Himself. 
He  has  discovered  so  much  of  grace  and 
truth,  so  much  of  Divine  glory  and  trans- 
forming goodness  in  the  Beloved  of  the  Fa- 
ther, and  is  so  affected  by  finding  that  this 
Saviour  is  willing  to  be  his  guide  through 
life  and  his  portion  in  eternity,  that  his 
choice  is  fixed  and  his  heart  is  won.  For 
him  to  live  will  be  Christ.  And  so  the 
beginning  of  all  blessedness  is  to  possess  clear 
views  and  a  conclusive  faith.  Some  depre- 
cate distinct  ideas.  They  prefer  music  with- 
out words  —  the  goodly  sound  of  the  Gospel 
without  its  significance.  And  if  they  have 
fiiith,  it  is  faith  in  confusion  —  faith  without 
solid  foundation.  If  they  be  cedars,  they  are 
cedars  planted  in  mud  —  cedars  in  the  sand. 
The  cedars  of  Lebanon  are  rooted  in  the 
wiry  sod,  and  rivetted  in  the  mountain  rock. 
Know  what  to  believe,  and  why.  Read  and 
hear  and  think  and  pray  till  your  realisations 
be  vivid  and  your  convictions  sure  and  stead- 
fast.   Never  rest  till  you  know  beyond  all  con- 


70  EMliLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

troversy,  if  you  do  not  know  it  already,  that 
the  Bible  is  God's  book — nor  till  you  exactly 
understand  and  can  easily  state  the  one  way 
of  salvation.  Never  rest  till  you  be  able  to 
intrust  your  everlasting  interests  to  Jesus 
Christ,  nor  till  you  have  some  clear  evidence 
that  you  are  born  again,  and  so  made  meet 
for  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Never  rest  till 
you  know  that  your  Redeemer  liveth,  nor  till 
you  feel  that  because  He  liv^eth  you  shall  live 
also.  "  Your  case  will  be  very  trying  if  ever 
called  to  part  with  all  for  Christ,  and  not 
sure  of  him  either."  And  your  departure 
from  time  will  be  dismal,  if  it  be  only  the 
force  of  sickness  that  drives  you  away  and 
not  the  face  of  Jesus  that  draws  you — if  you 
see  plainly  the  grisly  hand  and  the  levelled 
shaft  of  the  destroyer  to  fly  from,  but  not 
the  ojDen  arms  and  smiling  embrace  of  the 
Saviour  to  leap  into. 

The  cedar  is  a  thirsty  tree.  It  is  distin- 
guished from  many  of  its  kindred  by  its 
avarice  of  water.  We  once  saw  two  of  them 
at  Chelsea,  which  were  said  to  have  grown 
rapidly  for  a  hundred  years,  till  two  ponds  in 
the  garden  were  filled  with  rubbish  —  after 


THE  CEDATl.  ^     71 

which  they  grew  no  more.  And  we  remem- 
bered the  words  of  Ezekiel,  "Behold,  the 
Assyrian  was  a  cedar  in  Lebanon,  with  fair 
branches,  and  a  shadowing  shroud.  The 
waters  made  him  great,  the  deep  set  him  up 
on  high.  His  boughs  were  multiplied,  and 
his  branches  became  long,  because  of  the 
multitude  of  waters.  All  the  fowls  of  hea- 
ven made  their  nests  in  his  boughs,  and 
under  his  branches  did  the  beasts  of  the  field 
bring  forth  their  young,  and  under  his 
shadow  dwelt  great  nations.  Thus  fair  was 
his  grandeur,  for  his  root  was  by  great 
waters.  The  cedars  in  the  garden  of  God 
could  not  hide  him,  the  fir-trees  were  not 
like  him,  all  the  trees  of  Eden  envied  him."* 
And  so  there  are  Christians  planted  by  the 
rivers, —  believers  of  stately  growth  and  lux- 
uriant shadow, —  so  tall  that,  even  in  the 
garden  of  God,  and  among  the  cedars,  they 
cannot  be  hid.  For  clcar-cyed,  time-pene- 
trating faith,  such  an  overtopping  saint  was 
Abraham,  who  athwart  the  expanse  of  nine- 
teen centuries  could  see  Christ's  day,  and 
exult  with  a  disciple's  joy.  For  prompt  gra- 
*  Ez.  xxxi.  3-9. 


72  EMBLKMS  FROM  EDEN. 

titude  and  ecstatic  adoration,  such  an  exalted 
saint  -was  David,  whose  "glorying"  slept  so 
lightly  that  the  softest  touch  awoke  it,*  and 
whose  palpitating  psaltery  was  so  accustomed 
to  Ilallelujdis,  that  sorrow  struck  them  out 
as  readily  as  joy,  and  oft  as  he  changed  the 
cords  the  loyal  harp  would  only  sing  the 
praises  of  Jehovah.  For  high-hearted  de- 
votion to  his  God,  sue! I  an  elevated  saint  was 
Daniel,  whose  lofty  statesmanship,  and  spot- 
less career,  and  lovely  bearing  to  his  bre- 
thren, were  but  the  various  expressions  of 
the  self-same;  thing  to  which  he  owed  his  mi- 
raculous escapes  and  his  frequent  revelations, 
— "  O  man  greatly  beloved,  thy  prayer  is 
heard."  And  for  burning  love  to  Jesus 
Christ,  self-forgetful,  self-consuming,  such  a 
pre-eminent  saint  was  Paul,  to  whom  the 
beloved  image  of  his  Master  shone  in  every 
type  and  shadow  of  the  old  economy  ;  who 
could  trace  the  myrrh-dropping  fingers  on 
the  tongs  and  snuffers  of  the  tabernacle;  who 
could  hear  the  voice  of  Jesus  through  the 
roar  of  the  Adriatic,  and  lean  upon  His  arm 
before  Nero's  judgment-scat;  to  whom  the 
*  Psalm  Ivii.  8. 


THE  CEDAR.  73 

aflliction  in  Avhicli  Christ  came  was  more 
welcome  than  an  angel  visitor,  and  as  the 
summons  to  Christ's  presence,  death  itself 
the  object  of  desire.  Such  noble  and  com- 
manding characters  have  there  been,  that 
none  could  hide  them,  and  none  were  like 
them,  and  under  the  awe  or  the  attraction  of 
their  goodness,  good  men  wished  to  resemble 
them.  "  The  trees  of  Eden  envied  them." 
It  is  not  only  Secretary  Cecil  w^lio  could  have 
changed  the  palace  for  the  preacher's  cot- 
tage, rightly  declaring,  "  There  dwells  as 
much  happiness  as  can  be  known  on  earth ;" 
but  men  of  God  have  been  provoked  to  press 
forward  by  the  higher  attainments  of  their 
brethren.  "  In  one  I  have  been  animated  by 
ardent  activity  for  the  glory  of  Christ,  and 
the  salvation  of  souls.  In  another  I  was 
pleased  and  softened  by  conspicuous  meekness 
and  gentleness  of  spirit.  In  a  third,  I  was 
excited  to  love  and  good  works  by  the  fer- 
vent charity  and  brotherly  kindness  I  beheld; 
and  in  a  fourth,  I  w^as  led  to  abase  myself, 
and  confess  the  pride  of  my  heart,  from 
the  humility  and  brokenness  of  spirit  which 
struck  me."     But  when  you  come  to  look 

H 


74  emble:.is  fko:^i  edex. 

closely  into  the  matter,  and  inquire  to  what 
secret  cause  these  lofty  cedars  owe  their 
growth ;  whence  is  it  that  their  influential 
and  impressive  characters  have  derived  their 
admirable  grace,  you  ahvays  find  that  com- 
munion with  God  is  the  comprehensive  source 
of  their  pre-eminent  piety.  They  are  abun- 
dant in  religious  exercises.  They  are  mighty 
in  the  Scriptures.  They  are  men  of  prayer. 
They  are  frequenters  of  the  sanctuary.  They 
are  lovers  of  Christian  fellowship.  They  are 
delighted  observers  of  the  Sabbath.  But, 
after  all,  ordinances  are  to  them  but  avenues 
or  audience  chambers.  It  is  a  Bible  in 
which  God  speaks,  a  closet  in  which  God 
hearkens,  a  sanctuary  in  which  God's  coun- 
tenance shines,  w^hich  they  desire  of  the 
Lord,  «,nd  seek  to  attain.  And  finding  these, 
they  find  the  living  God  Himself.  Their  fel- 
lowship is  with  the  Father  and  the  Son. 
They  grow  into  the  knowledge  of  the  Divine 
perfections.  They  grow  in  reverence  and 
trust  and  love.  They  groAv  in  perceptions 
of  their  own  infinite  vileness,  and  conse- 
quently in  appreciation  of  the  blood  which 
jmrdoji^j  and  the  Spirit  who  cleanses.     They 


Tin:  CHDAH.  75 

grow  in  self-distrust,  and  in  dependence  on 
God.  They  grow  in  self-condemnation,  and 
in  desire  for  that  world  where  they  will 
sin  no  more.  And  whilst  they  are  solidly 
growing  in  these  inward  experiences,  they 
have,  unawares  to  themselves,  expanded  the 
long  branches  and  shadowing  shroud  of  a 
great  cedar.  They  have  become  the  ad- 
miration and  resort  of  others.  The  aiFections 
of  many  nestle  in  their  boughs,  and  under 
their  shadow  dwell  those  who  seek  to  profit 
by  their  counsel  and  their  company.  And 
just  as  there  is  growth  in  the  multitude  of 
waters,  so  there  is  decrepitude  and  decay 
where  the  waters  fail.  Like  the  Chelsea 
cedars,  you  will  meet  with  professors  who, 
for  many  years  together,  have  not  grown  an 
inch.  The  rubbish  of  secularity  or  idleness 
has  filled  up  the  two  pools  of  Bible  reading 
and  secret  prayer ;  and  a  stunted  top,  and  a 
bundle  of  scrubby  branches,  a  form  of  god- 
liness, and  a  few  Evangelical  phrases,  are  all 
that  remains  to  commemorate  tlieir  better  days 
and  prosperous  beginning. 

Another  thing  notable  in  the  cedar  is  the 
vigour  of  its  goodly  boughs.      Some  trees, 


eo  E:«inM:.MS  f::o.'.i  ed:;x. 

especially  trees  of  the  forest,  growing  in 
groups,  liave  frnizile  bouc^lis,  and  cannot 
abide  in  bleak  and  v/indy  place?.  But  tlie 
cedar  is  not  more  remarkable  for  the  depth 
of  its  roots  than  for  the  strength  of  its 
branches.  Not  grafFed  on  nor  jointed  in,  but 
the  brawny  limbs  deep-rooted  in  the  massy 
bole,  presenting  a  broad  surface  to  the  sun, 
and  a  thin  edge  to  the  tempest,  too  elastic  to 
snap,  and  too  sturdily  set  in  their  socket  to 
flutter  in  the  breeze,  these  boughs  are  the 
very  emblem  of  graceful  strength  and  vi- 
gorous majesty.  The  Christian  is  a  man  ol* 
faith,  and  therefore  a  man  of  principle.  His 
creed  is  principle.  His  practice  i§  the  same. 
Roots  and  branches  make  one  tree ;  and 
faith  and  practice  make  one  Christian.  And 
those  are  the  noblest  and  most  serviceable 
Christians  v/hose  convictions  are  so  firm,  and 
whose  characters  are  so  strong,  that  nothing 
can  affright  them  from  their  faith,  and 
nothing  deter  them  from  their  duty.  In  this 
respect,  that  fjither  of  the  Church  was  a 
goodly  cedar,  Avho,  when  nearly  the  whole  of 
Christendom  had  yielded  to  the  God-denying 
lieresy,  lifted  up  in  banishment  his  solitary 


THE  CEDAR.  77 

vDice,  proclaiming  the  Saviour's  Deity,  ^^Atha- 
nasius  contra  mundum.'^  And  they  were 
goodly  cedars  those  Waldensian  worthies, 
who,  amid  the  rocks  and  snows  of  Piedmont, 
through  five-and-thirty  persecutions,  held  fast 
the  faith  of  Jesus,  and  though  gashed  by  the 
Savoyard  spear,  and  scor(  hcd  by  the  Romish 
fagot,  carried  down  from  earliest  time  to  the 
present  hour  Christ's  pure  Gospel.  And  he 
was  a  goodly  cedar  that  Knox,  who  never 
feared  the  face  of  man.  The  fire  of  sur- 
rounding martyrdoms  but  warmed  his  roots, 
and  gave  a  rush  of  quicker  zeal  to  his  fervent 
spirit ;  and  whilst  the  axe  of  tyrants  threat- 
ened, he  firmly  stood  his  ground  till  the  idols 
fell,  and  the  evangel  flourished,  and  Scotland 
was  free.  And  so  was  that  Saxon  Luther, 
whom  the  Emperor  and  his  legions  tried  to 
terrify,  but  in  the  strength  of  God  he  came 
on  them  so  mighty,  that  men  and  devils  were 
dismayed; — that  Luther  whom  the  Pope's 
emissary  tried  to  bribe,  but  was  obliged  to 
write  back  to  his  master,  "  This  German 
beast  has  no  regard  for  gold."  And  so  were 
those  goodly  cedars,  Huss  and  Jerome  and 
Ridley  and  Patrick  Hamilton,  and  many 
II  2 


/  8  E.AIBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

more,  who  counted  their  lives  not  dear  that 
they  might  keep  the  testimony  of  Jesus  ;  and 
amidst  flames  and  torture  finished  their  joyful 
course, —  goodly  cedars,  which  burning  were 
not  consumed.  And  not  to  multiply  instances 
of  confessor  courage  and  martyr  heroism,  it 
is  the  self -same  holy  energy  and  decision  of 
Christian  character,  which  have  developed 
in  self-denying  services  and  costly  sacrifices. 
Franckc  devoting  all  his  time  and  all  his 
fortune  to  his  Orphan  Hospital; — Yander- 
kemp,  labouring  as  a  brickmakcr  tliat  he 
might  be  better  fitted  for  his  mission  to  the 
Hottentots;  —  the  "Apostle  of  the  Indians," 
wringing  the  rain-water  from  his  clothes, 
and  lying  all  night  in  the  forest  with  nothing 
but  a  tree  to  shelter  him;  —  Richard  Baxter, 
refusing  a  bishopric  ; —  John  Wesley,  pre- 
ferring active  labour  to  the  preparation  of  a 
pamphlet  in  his  own  defence,  "  Brother, 
when  I  devoted  to  God  my  ease,  my  time, 
my  life,  did  I  except  my  reputation?" — 
those  in  v^hom  Christian  principle  has  been 
so  strong,  that  at  its  bidding  they  have 
abandoned  lucrative  situations  and  tempting 
prospects,   that   they   miglit   keep   holy  the 


THE  CEDAK.  79 

Sabbath,  tliat  tliey  might  preserve  inviohitc 
honesty,  truthfulness,  and  integrity,  that  they 
might  maintain  a  conscience  void  of  offence ; 
all  these  have  put  forth  in  their  day  the 
strength  of  the  goodly  cedar. 

The  cedar  "  grows "  from  year  to  year. 
The  solid  timber  of  its  trunk  grows  denser 
and  more  compact,  and  new  layers  are  added 
to  its  girth,  so  that  when  it  is  eventually 
felled,  you  can  almost  say,  by  counting  the 
concentric  rings,  how  many  summers  it  has 
seen.  A  living  Christian  grows.  His  cha- 
racter confirms.  Duties,  which  when  first 
performed  w^ere  a  crucifixion  of  the  flesh  and 
a  triumph  of  faith,  become  easy  and  familiar 
habits.  Promises,  the  fulfilment  of  which  he 
at  first  credited  on  the  mere  authority  of 
God,  have  now  received  the  yea  and  amen 
of  a  long  experience.  In  the  homely  words 
of  Robert  Bruce,  "  When  I  w^as  young  the 
Lord  compelled  me  to  live  by  faith,  but  now 
He  feeds  His  old  servant  with  great  morsels 
of  sense."  Religion  has  become  his  better 
and  more  beauteous  nature.  He  is  past  the 
danger  of  being  ashamed  of  Christ.  The 
awkwardness  and  fear  of  man,  which  made 


80  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

him  once  so  fond  of  obscurity,  and  so  afraid 
of  the  Jews,  have  passed  away,  and  he  is  no 
longer  averse  to  be  ranked  among  the  pecu- 
liar people,  and  regarded  as  a  disciple  of 
Jesus.  There  are  apologies  which  he  has 
ceased  to  make,  and  difficulties  which  he  has 
ceased  to  feel.  The  lions  of  his  youth  have 
disappeared  from  the  street,  and  the  grass- 
hopper, which  was  a  burden  to  his  early 
faith,  is  no  disturbance  to  his  maturer  piety. 
There  are  sins  which  no  longer  beset  him, 
and  fears  which  no  longer  distress  him.  He 
has  outgrown  the  spirit  of  speculation  and 
controversy,  and  in  meek  docility  sits  down 
at  the  Master's  feet,  listening  to — Thus  saith 
the  Lord.  He  has  lost  the  desire  for  theo- 
logical novelties  and  religious  curiosities, 
and  is  only  anxious  for  such  new  things  as 
come  out  of  the  old  Bible  Treasury.  He 
has  outlived  the  dogmatism  and  harsh  judg- 
ing of  his  sanguine  prime,  and  no  longer 
calls  for  fire  from  heaven  on  the  Samaritans. 
He  has  left  behind  him  the  vanity  which 
gave  an  air  of  flippnacy  and  self-conceit  to 
his  earlier  efforts,  and  raised  a  prejudice 
against  himself,  if  not  a  distaste  at  religion. 


TITE  CEDAK.  81 

Anil,  perhaps,  he  lias  outlived  the  fear  of 
dying.  At  one  time  there  Avas  something 
ghastly  in  the  look  of  the  last  enemy :  but 
now,  looking  unto  Jesus,  he  has  learned  to 
look  beyond  it.  "  There  is  something  in  the 
heart  of  Christ,  and  something  in  my  own, 
which  will  not  be  at  rest  till  I  be  set  down 
upon  Mount  Zion.  My  eyes  are  turning 
gladly  toAvards  death,  as  the  only  sure  period 
of  His  absence,  and  of  these  agonies  of  sepa- 
ration."* 

Reader,  would  you  knoAv  whether  you  are 
gro-wing  in  grace  ?  improving  and  advancing 
in  personal  Christianity  ?  Then  tell  us.  Is 
your  faith  more  firm?  Have  the  truths  to 
which  you  once  consented  strengthened  into 
settled  convictions  ?  Have  they  become  first 
principles,  and  do  they  instinctively  prompt 
you  to  corresponding  action  ?  Is  your  piety 
more  pervasive  ?  Does  it  decide  your  con- 
duct, and  give  the  casting  vote  in  doubtful 
conjunctures  of  your  history?  "Does  it 
regulate  your  daily  demeanour  as  a  husband, 
wife,  parent,  child,  master,  servant?  Does 
it  come  abroad  with  you,  out  of  your  closets 
*  Letters  of  Dr.  John  Love. 


82  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDKX. 

into  your  houses,  your  shops,  your  fields  ? 
Does  it  journey  with  you,  and  buy  and  sell 
for  you  ?"  Does  it  stand  at  your  elbow,  and 
keep  watch  at  the  door  of  your  lips?  Is 
your  heart  larger?  Instead  of  looking  merely 
on  your  own  things,  have  you  learned  to 
look  on  the  things  of  others  ?  Do  you  love 
the  brotherhood  ?  And  however  much  you 
may  prize  your  own  denomination,  do  you 
rejoice  to  hear  that  godliness  revives  and 
religion  spreads  in  other  communions  ?  Have 
you  a  public  spirit  ? —  a  missionary  spirit  ? — 
a  spirit  of  zeal  ?  In  the  efforts  made  to  pro- 
tect the  Sabbath,  to  educate  the  ignorant, 
to  reclaim  the  vicious,  and  ameliorate  the 
condition  of  the  working  classes,  do  your 
whole  souls  accord  ?  Have  the  present  ob- 
jects of  philanthropy  and  patriotism  your 
suffrage,  your  sympathy,  your  prayers  ?  But, 
above  all,  does  your  love  to  the  Lord  Jesus 
grow  ?  Whether  it  be  in  this  world  or  an- 
other that  you  first  expect  to  see  Him  as  He 
is,  do  you  desire  the  sight?  Do  you  dis- 
tinctly feel  that  the  same  Saviour  who  was 
such  a  disappointment  to  the  Pharisees,  and 
who,  after  He  had  been  so  long  time  with 


THE  CEDAR.  83 

them,  was  so  little  known  by  Philip  and 
Thomas  and  the  rest, —  are  you  sure  that 
He  is  just  the  Saviour  whom  you  desire,  the 
very  one  whose  presence  will  make,  in  any 
place,  your  heaven  ?  Have  you  beheld  His 
glory,  full  of  grace  and  truth ;  and  has  that 
glory  so  inflamed  your  spirit  that,  like  the 
ship  to  its  haven,  like  the  needle  to  its 
magnet,  like  the  dove  to  its  window,  your 
soul  will  only  reach  its  final  rest  when  it 
comes  home  to  Himself  to  depart  no  more  ? 
The  Maronites  ascribe  a  singular  faculty 
to  the  cedar.  They  say  that  on  the  approach 
of  snowy  weather  it  bends  its  branches  up- 
wards, so  as  to  receive  the  falling  flakes  on 
the  sides  of  a  slender  pyramid.*  Prepared 
for  the  tempest,  it  only  looks  more  graceful 
under  it,  and  the  storm  which  could  not  rend 


*  A  French  traveller  of  last  century  relates  this, 
and  apparently  believes  it.  The  cedar  does  not  retain 
its  self-protecting  instinct  in  this  country.  There  was 
a  noble  specimen  in  the  Royal  Gardens  at  Kew,  on 
which  a  few  winters  ago  the  snow  lay  so  heavy,  that 
one  windy  ni^ht  its  great  branches  fractured,  with  a 
report  so  loud  that  the  villagers  mistook  it  for  the 
firin<r  of  guns. 


84  E.^IIiLEMS  TROM  EDEN. 

its  bougli'3  soon  melts  in  irrigation  round  its 
roots.  And  though  the  cedar's  power  to 
predict  the  tempest  may  exist  only  in  the 
imagination  of  these  sons  of  the  mountain, 
the  lesson  is  to  us  not  the  less  instructive. 
It  is  in  a  way  somewhat  similar  that  the 
Lord  prepares  His  people  for  trial.  Some- 
times they  have  a  presentiment  of  approach- 
ing calamity,  and  are  led  to  cry,  "  Be  not  far 
from  me,  for  trouble  is  near."  But  often 
and  still  more  mercifully  the  coming  evil  is 
hid,  and  all  their  preparation  is  unwonted 
heavenly-mindedness.  Like  the  cedar  lifting 
up  its  boughs,  they  lift  up  their  hearts,  and 
know  not  that  it  is  their  Lord  putting  them 
in  an  attitude  to  bear  the  storm.  They  feel 
a  joy  unspeakable  to-day,  and  find  the  ex- 
planation in  the  grief  of  the  morrow.  But 
still  the  joy  of  the  Lord  has  strengthened 
them,  the  self-devotion  and  ascending  affec- 
tions of  these  preparatory  moments  have  put 
them  in  the  posture  on  which  the  tempest 
comes  doAvn  most  lightly.  "  On  Easter  Sun- 
day, 1824,"  writes  one,  ''I  rose  before  six  in 
the  morning,  earlier  than  I  had  been  able  to 
do  for  a  month  before,  on  account  of  iiidis- 


positioii.  I  kncc4cd  dovv'ii  a  minute  or  two 
after  I  had  risen,  and  completely  resigned 
myself  to  God,  giving  myself  up  to  Him  in  a 
way  wliich  I  had  never  been  able  to  do 
before.  I  rose  from  my  knees  with  a  sacred 
feeling  that  I  was  not  my  own,  being  *  bought 
with  a  price,'  but  the  actual  property  of 
another,  w^io  I  was  perfectly  willing  should 
do  what  he  pleased  with  his  own.  I  had  a 
peculiarly  calm  and  composed  state  of  mind 
all  the  day.  In  the  evening  I  coughed  twice, 
and  broke  a  blood-vessel."*  And  this  was 
the  beginning  ol  the  illness  from  which  she 
never  finally  recovered,  but  during  which 
divine  consolations  never  forsook  her.  In 
the  Journal  of  I\Irs.  Fletcher  one  entry  closes, 
"  Certainly  I  have  now  scarce  any  cross. 
Thou  hast  made  my  cup  to  run  over.  Yea, 
thou  hast  made  me  to  forget  all  my  sorrows. 
There  is  not  a  comfort  I  can  wish  for  which 
I  have  not ;  but.  Lord,  I  want  more  grace." 
The  next  begins,  "  When  I  wrote  last,  I  w^as 
arrived  at  the  summit  of  human  felicity. 
But,  oh !    how   shall   I  write   it !  —  On  the 

*   "Memorials  of  Two  Sisters."     London,   1843; 
p.  114. 


86  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEX. 

Hth  of  August  the  dreadful  moment  came. 
The  sun  of  my  earthly  joys  for  ever  set,  and 
the  cloud  arose  which  casts  the  sable  on  all 
my  future  life.  At  half-past  ten  that  Sab- 
bath night,  I  closed  the  eyes  of  my  beloved." 
But  from  another  passage  it  appears,  that 
just  before  the  attack  which  ended  his  earthly 
labours,  Mr.  Fletcher  and  herself  had  been 
led  to  a  very  express  devotement  of  them- 
selves to  God  ;  and  the  consequence  was  that 
her  startled  spirit  soon  found  its  quiet  rest 
again.  A  thankful  sense  of  her  mercies  made 
one  pang  the  less  in  losing  them;  and  the 
self-dedication  in  which  she  had  so  lately 
joined  prepared  her  for  the  elevated  and 
beneficent  life  which  she  subsequently  led, 
worthy  of  one  who  had  found  a  Husband  in 
her  Maker.  And  as  the  Lord  secretly  pre- 
pares His  people  for  trial,  so  He  supports 
them  under  it.  Like  the  snow  which  shapes 
the  cedar  into  a  new  and  graceful  figure, 
sorrow  gives  the  Christian  a  new  aspect  of 
loveliness.  It  brings  out  the  meekness,  the 
endurance,  and  elasticity  of  the  better  nature 
within  him;  and  it  evinces  how  invulnerable 
is  his  hidden  life.     It  was  the  cheerful  remark 


THE  CEDAP..  87 

of  Mr.  Wilbcrforce,  wlien  his  wealth  took 
wing,  "  I  know  not  why  my  life  is  spared  so 
long,  except  it  be  to  show  that  a  man  can  be 
as  happy  without  a  fortune  as  with  one.'* 
Dr.  Arnold  had  a  sister  who  during  twenty 
years  of  sickness  made  it  a  rule  never  once 
to  allude  to  her  sufferings ;  and  there  have 
been  many  of  God's  servants  whom  His 
Spirit  has  so  mightily  strengthened  that  it 
was  a  great  sight,  it  was  treading  ground 
which  God's  presence  made  holy,  when  called 
to  witness  their  patient  endurance  and  joyful 
constancy.  And  like  the  cedar,  ready  for 
trial  and  supported  under  it,  the  believer  is 
the  better  for  it  when  it  has  passed  away. 
What  is  spring  but  winter  melted?  What 
is  the  sap  which  now  gushes  vital  in  these 
branches,  but  the  snow  which  lately  covered 
them  with  its  frosty  load?  And  what  is 
vigorous  piety,  but  temptation  vanquished? 
What  is  experience,  but  tribulation  thawed 
by  patience?  And  what  is  heaven  itself, 
but  light  affliction  transformed  to  exceeding 
glory  ? 

We  might  mention  other  properties  of  the 
cedar.      Like    the    palm,    it    is    evergreen. 


88  EMBLEMS  rr.OM  edi:x. 

Though  a  native  of  the  mountains  and  use  d 
to  wintry  weather,  it  never  sheds  its  leaves. 
And  these  leaves,  as  well  as  its  bark  and 
wood,  are  aromatic.  Even  when  the  snow  is 
loading  its  branches,  the  cedar  is  fragrant ; 
but  it  is  in  those  blessed  and  vernal  days 
when  snows  are  melting,  when  the  April  sun 
is  lavishing  his  light  and  heat  to  the  balmy 
air,  and  the  whole  life  of  the  mountain  is 
gushing  through  i\\c  opening  flowers  and 
carolling  birds  and  leaping  lambs, —  it  is 
then  that  in  the  bursting  of  fresh  foliage  and 
in  the  flow  of  beaded  gums,  the  cedar  loads 
the  air  with  incense,  and  flings  afar  "  the 
smell  of  Lebanon."  And  so  a  gracious  soul 
is  ever  fresh,  ever  vital,  ever  green.  But 
there  are  times  when  the  winter  is  past  ajid 
the  Sun  of  Kighteousncss  shines, — the  April 
season  of  the  soul ;  times  when  a  whole  tide 
of  happy  life  flows  into  the  dilating  spirit, 
and  the  joy  of  Jesus  circulates  expansive  and 
reviving  through  every  opening  faculty  and 
enlarging  grace.  And  it  is  then  —  then, 
when  every  twig  of  the  cedar  is  tufted  with 
new  softness  and  beauty,  and  when  the  nest- 
ling birds  are  singing  in  the  branches  —  it 


THE  CEDAR.  89 

is  tlicn  when  tlie  love  of  the  Spirit  circulates 
anew,  and  the  soul  exults  in  God  its  Saviour ; 
it  is  then  that  it  is  good  to  be  near  the 
happy  and  fresh-filled  believer.  In  such 
society,  and  at  such  a  season,  the  atmosphere 
is  odour.  The  south  wind  wakes,  and  the 
spices  flow.  Heaven  has  opened,  and  the 
winter  fled.  God  smiles,  and  the  soul  ex- 
pands. The  Holy  Spirit  stirs  within,  and 
verdure  mantles  to  the  topmost  bough.  And 
in  the  wafted  gladness  and  delicious  air, 
every  alert  disciple  feels  "  It  is  good  to  be 
here." 

We  might  have  added,  the  cedar  is  sound 
to  the  last;  and  the  believer  perseveres  to 
the  end,  "  to  show  that  the  Lord  is  upright ; 
He  is  a  rock,  and  there  is  no  unrighteousness 
with  Him."  But  we  only  mention  one  par- 
ticular farther.  The  palm  is  most  produc- 
tive at  the  last.  It  brings  forth  in  old  age 
its  largest,  richest  fruit.  The  cedar  is  most 
useful  when  dead.  It  is  most  productive 
when  its  place  knov/s  it  no  more.  There  is 
no  timber  like  it.  Firm  in  the  grain,  and 
capable  of  the  finest  polish,  the  tooth  of  no 
insect  will  touch  it,  and  Time  himself  can 
i2 


90  EMDLT'MS  FKO:\r  EDEN. 

lira'clly  destroy  it.  DiiTusing  a  perpetual  fra- 
grance through  the  chambers  which  it  ceils, 
the  worm  will  not  corrode  the  book  which  it 
protects,  nor  the  moth  corrupt  the  garment 
which  it  guards.  All  but  immortal  itself,  it 
transfuses  its  amaranthine  qualities  to  the 
objects  around  it;  and  however  stately  in 
the  forest,  or  brave  on  the  mountain's  brow, 
it  is  more  serviceable  in  Solomon's  palace, 
and  it  receives  an  illustrious  consecration 
when  set  up  as  pillars  in  the  Temple,  and 
carved  into  door-posts  and  lintels  for  the 
House  of  the  Lord.  Every  Christian  is  use- 
ful in  his  life,  but  the  goodly  cedars  are  most 
useful  afterwards.  Joseph  while  he  lived 
saved  much  people  alive,  and  his  own  lofty 
goodness  was  an  impressive  and  elevating 
pattern  to  his  relenting  and  admiring  bre- 
thren. But  as  an  instance  of  special  pro- 
vidence, and  an  example  of  untarnished  ex- 
cellence amidst  terrible  temptations,  Joseph 
dead  has  spoken  to  more  than  Joseph  living. 
The  SAveet  singer  of  Israel  while  he  lived 
taught  many  to  handle  the  harp,  and  infected 
not  a  few  with  his  thankful,  adoring  spirit. 
But  David  being  dead  yet  singeth,  and  you 


THE  CEDAR.  91 

can  hardly  name  the  psalm,  or  hymn,  or 
spiritual  song,  of  which  the  lesson  was  not 
learnt  from  the  son  of  Jesse.  Paul  in  his 
living  day  preached  many  a  sermon,  and 
made  many  a  convert  to  the  faith  of  Jesus. 
But  Paul  being  dead  yet  preacheth,  and  they 
were  sermons  from  his  sepulchre  which  con- 
verted Luther,  and  Zuingle,  and  most  of  our 
modern  evangelists.  And  Luther  is  dead, 
but  the  Reformation  lives.  Calvin  is  dead, 
but  his  vindication  of  God's  free  and  sove- 
reign grace  will  never  die.  Knox,  ^Melville, 
and  Henderson,  are  dead,  but  Scotland  still 
retains  a  Sabbath  and  a  Christian  peasantry, 
a  Bible  in  every  house,  and  a  school  in  every 
parish.  Bunyan  is  dead,  but  his  bright 
spirit  still  walks  the  earth  in  its  "Pilgrim's 
Progress."  Baxter  is  dead,  but  souls  are 
still  quickened  by  the  "  Saints'  Rest,"  and 
the  "  Call  to  the  Unconverted."  Cowper  is 
dead,  but  the  "golden  apples"  are  still  as 
fresh  as  when  newly  gathered  in  the  "silver 
basket  "  of  the  Olney  Hymns.  Eliot  is  dead, 
but  the  missionary  enterprise  is  young.  Henry 
Martyn  is  dead,  but  who  can  count  the  apo- 
stolic spirits  who,  phocnix-wi.'-:e,  have  started 


92  EMBLEMS  FKOM  EDEN. 

Irom  his  funeral  pile  ?  Howard  is  dead,  but 
modern  pliilanthropy  is  only  commencing  its 
career.  Raikes  is  dead,  but  the  Sabbath- 
schools  go  on.  Wilberforce  is  dead,  but  the 
Negro  will  find  for  ages  a  protector  in  his 
memory. 

And  though  you.  Christian  brother,  may 
not  occupy  a  place  of  prominence,  you  may 
fill  a  place  of  usefulness.  If  not  a  cedar  of 
the  mountain,  you  may  be  a  cedar  of  the 
vale.  Seek  a  clear  understanding  of  scrip- 
tural truth.  Be  fully  persuaded  in  your 
mind.  See  to  it  that  a  living  Saviour  be 
indeed  the  sun  of  your  affections  and  the 
centre  of  your  desires.  Cultivate  a  strenuous 
piety.  Alike  combat  intellectual  laziness  and 
spiritual  lethargy.  Be  ready  for  every  good 
work.  Be  ready  to  give  a  reason  for  the 
hope  that  is  in  you.  And  pray  that  the 
Lord  would  maintain  you  ever  ready  for  His 
providential  will.  Instead  of  yielding  to 
every  passing  influence,  seek  a  character  so 
consistent,  so  meekly  resolute,  so  cheerfully 
devout,  that  sin  will  find  no  sanction  in  your 
silence,  and  irreligion  no  excuse  in  your 
gloom.     And  more  especially  among  familiar 


THE  CEDAR.  \j6 

friends  and  in  your  house  at  Lome,  strive  to 
walk  wisely  in  a  perfect  way.  Begin  and 
end  the  day  with  God.  Let  salt  season  your 
speech,  and  let  Christian  elevation  pervade 
your  demeanour.  Let  the  peace  of  God  rule 
in  your  heart,,  and  let  its  power  at  once  to 
strengthen  and  soften  be  seen  in  that  majestic 
principle  with  which  worldliness  dares  not  to 
tamper,  and  that  continual  benignity  which 
makes  even  worldliness  wistful.  And  thus, 
when  you  yourself  "grow"  here  no  longer, 
even  the  irreligious  will  think  of  something 
very  lofty  and  lovely  when  they  think  of 
you. 


THE   PALM. 


■  The  righteous  shall  flourish  like  the  palm-tree. 


Deak  Readee, — You  have  named  the  name 
of  Jesus.  You  have  been  led  to  avow  your- 
self the  Saviour's  disciple.  And,  if  sincere 
and  intelligent  in  your  profession,  j;du  are 
very  different  from  the  multitude,  and  from 
what  you  yourself  once  were.  To  you  Christ 
is  now  a  real  person.  You  are  persuaded  that 
He  is  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Saviour  of  sin- 
ners. You  believe  that  1800  years  ago  he 
poured  out  Ilis  precious  blood  on  a  cross  at 
Jerusalem,  as  an  atonement  lor  sin,  and  by 
His  obedience  to  death  brought  in  everlasting 
righteousness.  You  are  assured  that  He  is 
now  at  the  Father's  right  hand,  a  Prince  and 
a  Saviour,  bestowing  repentance  and  the  re- 
mission of  sins.  Your  own  hope  is  in  Christ. 
You  know  not  another  name  to  which  you 


THE  PALM.  95 

can  trust  your  eternal  interests,  but  Christ 
Jesus  you  can  and  do  rely  on.  And  since 
you  ascertained  Christ's  ability  and  willing- 
ness to  save,  there  has  been  a  change  in  your 
aifections  and  hopes,  your  principles  and  ha- 
bits. Your  temperament  may  be  cold ;  never- 
theless, by  you  Christ  is  loved  and  adored. 
Your  faith  may  be  feeble  and  your  prospects 
confused  ;  still  you  have  learned  to  recognise 
a  Friend  in  Immanuel  and  a  home  in  Heaven. 
Your  motives  may  be  mixed  and  unstable ; 
still  your  obedience  is  new,  and  you  often  find 
a  holy  impulse,  a  filial  instinct,  the  joy  of  sal- 
vation or  the  love  of  Christ  constraining  you. 
Your  character  may  be  very  defective;  but 
still  you  can  perceive  that  it  is  altered — for 
now  you  love  to  pray  and  read  the  Bible. 
You  arc  happy  among  the  excellent  of  the 
earth.  The  meditation  of  God  is  sweet,  the 
day  of  God  is  welcome,  and  the  house  of  God 
is  dear.  If  a  Christian  at  all,  your  case  will 
be  another  fulfilment  of  the  universal  rule, 
"  If  any  man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a  new  crea- 
ture." 

But  along  with  the  hope  of  sincerity  you 
may  have  a  painful  sense  of  deficiency.     You 


96  EMBLEMS  FKOM  EDilX. 

feel  that  you  are  neither  so  happy  nor  so  holy 
as  a  Christian  might  be.  You  would  like  to 
reach  a  character  more  explicit,  a  faith  more 
firm,  and  an  experience  more  vivid  than  are 
sought  by  ambiguous  and  commonplace  pro- 
fessors. You  perceive  that  it  is  a  high  mark 
which  the  Gospel  sets  before  you,  and  that 
the  consistent  Christian  is  not  only  a  new  but 
a  noble  creature.  But  if  such  completeness 
and  consistency  of  character  be  the  objects  of 
your  desire,  you  should  make  them  the  subject 
of  earnest  thought  and  prayerful  effort.  With 
the  Bible  for  a  directory  and  the  Holy  Spirit 
for  a  teacher,  there  is  nothing  august  and 
nothing  amiable  in  vital  Christianity  which 
you  may  not  long  and  hope  to  see  developed 
in  yourself.  The  Father  is  glorified  when 
disciples  are  fruitful.  The  Church  is  strong 
when  its  members  are  mutual  supports  and 
incitements.  And  the  Gospel  spreads  when 
living  epistles  commend  it. 

We  have  selected  as  mottoes  two  Scrip- 
tural emblems,  the  Palm  and  the  Cedar, — 
the  one  representing  personal  religion  in  its 
gracefulness,  the  other  piety  in  its  grandeur ; 
the  one,    the   beauty  of  true    holiness,    the 


THE  PALM.  97 

other,  its  mnjosty:  and  botli  together  the 
blessedness  of  its  possessor  and  the  benefits 
which  he  confers  on  others.  Having  ah-eady 
made  a  few  remarks  on  the  one,  we  now 
proceed  to  the  other. 

There  is  something  instructive  in  the  very 
place  Avhere  the  Palm-tree  grows.  It  is  not 
in  the  sheltered  dcptlis  of  the  forest,  nor  with 
its  roots  struck  deep  in  tlie  fertile  loam.  It 
grows  in  the  desert.  All  round  the  ridgj 
sand  is  burning,  and  often  its  pillar  of  ver- 
dure springs  direct  from  the  scorching  dust. 
And  it  is  in  the  desert  that  trees  of  righte- 
ousness grow.  This  earth  is  a  land  of  emp- 
tiness. Its  mould  is  not  tiie  soil  from  wliich 
you  would  expect  aught  spiritual  or  holy  to 
spring.  And  wh.en  in  a  Avorld  like  this — a 
world  so  sensual  and  depraved  and  so  embit- 
tered against  the  living  God, — when  in  such 
u  world  you  alight  on  a  man  of  blameless  life 
and  devout  disposition  and  heavenly  aspira- 
tions, it  is  the  same  surprise  as  encountering 
the  bright  and  laden  Palm  on  the  dusty  edge 
of  the  desert.  You  may  feel  that  your  own 
is  not  the  favourable  place  for  cultivating 
personal  piety.     Your  abode  is  not  a  cottage 

•    K 


98  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDKX. 

imbedded  in  the  calm  of  rural  Sabbaths,  where 
the  over-arching  firmament  or  the  leafy  soli- 
tude invites  you,  Eden-wise,  to  communion 
with  God.  Your  lot  is  not  cast  under  the 
protective  shadow  of  a  domestic  sanctuary, 
or  amid  the  innocent  safeguards  and  virtuous 
inspiration  of  a  hallowed  and  godly  home. 
You  live  in  a  city  where  the  dust  of  business 
is  drifting  all  the  week,  and  the  din  of  occu- 
pation disturbs  the  day  of  rest.  You  are 
planted  in  a  lonely  lodging,  or  a  praj'crless 
household.  And  if  your  soul  is  to  tlirivc  at 
all,  it  must  learn  to  "flourish"  among  stran- 
gers and  scoiFers.  You  must  be  a  man  of 
principle  in  the  midst  of  profligacy,  and  a 
man  of  faith  while  surrounded  with  infidelity. 
"Thou,  God,  seest  me!"  must  be  inscribed 
in  the  dingy  counting-room,  and  must  move 
before  you  in  letters  of  endearing  light 
through  the  glare  of  the  gas-lit  mart.  You 
must  carry  Bible  rules  into  scenes  of  trickery 
and  tumult,  and  must  not  suffer  cunning  men 
to  beguile  you  of  your  simplicity,  or  knavish 
men  to  rob  you  of  your  equanimity.  You 
nnist  learn  to  be  holy  and  harmless  though  in 
daily  contact  with  duplicity,  and  must  strive 


THE  TALM.  99 

to  lead  Enoch's  life :  for,  were  Enoch  living 
now,  he  would  walk  with  God  in  the  streets 
of  London. 

Though  the  Palm  starts  bolt  up  from  the 
burning  sand,  the  sand  is  not  its  sustenance. 
The  dust  may  have  swept  hot  and  stifling 
round  its  stem ; — but  clear  that  dust  away. 
The  sand  grows  humid  as  you  dig,  and,  by 
the  time  you  reach  the  white  fibres  of  the 
tap,  the  veins  of  water  flow.  And,  as,  by  and 
by,  you  gaze  on  the  fringy  rootlets  floating  in 
the  well,  you  discern  the  secret  of  its  joyous 
growth.  No  matter  that  the  sky  is  brass  and 
the  desert  dust,  when  crystal  life  is  throbbing 
perennial  and  plentiful  below.  Doubtless  this 
is  a  dry  and  thirsty  land ;  but  it  is  the  land 
where  ever  and  anon  the  eye  is  gladdened  by 
some  goodly  Palm.  In  strange  and  unexpected 
places  you  meet  with  fresh  and  lofty  Christ- 
ians. You  wonder  how  they  thrive.  They 
do  not  grow  as  the  lily ;  for  the  lily  is  found 
in  green  pastures,  and  they  do  not  belong  to 
a  lifcsome  communion.  Nor  do  they  spring 
as  the  willow ;  for  it  springs  by  the  water- 
courses, and  they  have  not  the  benefit  of  the 
purest  ordinances  and  the    most   refreshful 


100  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

ministrations.  They  are  trees  of  the  desert, 
like  Enoch  among  the  giant  sinners  of  an 
early  world ;  like  Joseph  among  the  wizards 
and  beast-worshippers  of  Egypt ;  like  Daniel 
in  voluptuous  Babylon ;  like  David  Brainerd 
among  Indian  savages ;  like  Henry  Martyn 
in  stony-hearted  Persia.  Their  life  is  hid. 
So  pure  amidst  depravity,  so  loyal  to  God 
amidst  idolatry,  so  devout  and  fervent  amidst 
atheism  and  blasphemy,  their  heavcnly-mind- 
edness  is  a  miracle.  But  beneath  the  dusty 
surface  of  this  godless  world,  there  is  a  well 
of  water  springing  up  to  everlasting  life. 
There  is  no  spot  so  barren,  and  no  soil  so 
burning,  no  place  nor  period  so  adverse,  but 
faith  can  find  the  Holy  Spirit  there.  It  needs 
only  faith's  penetrating  root  descending  be- 
neath the  things  which  do  appear,*  to  fetch 
up  spiritual  refreshment  and  invigoration 
where  others  pine  and  die.  From  a  secret 
source  the  believer  in  Jesus  draws  his  life. 
The  morning  portion  of  the  word,  the  morn- 
ing prayer,  the  morning  meditation ;  these 
are  the  "  stolen  waters"  which  keep  him 
green  all  day ;  and  even  in  the  desert  there 
*  Heb.xi.  1. 


THE  PALM.  101 

is  a  dew  which,  descending  on  his  branches 
overnight,  brings  him  forth  fragrant  and 
vcgete  to  the  morrow.  You,  my  friend, 
who  lead  a  life  of  secularity  or  drudgery, — 
you  who  are  often  sighing,  "Lord,  what  a 
wretched  land  is  this;"  remember  that  it  is 
the  land  of  the  Bible,  the  land  of  prayer,  the 
land  of  the  promises,  and,  above  all,  the  land 
of  the  Comforter's  presence  and  power.  To 
say  nothing  of  periodic  rains  and  weekly 
showers,  the  affluent  irrigation  of  sanctified 
Sabbaths  and  communion  feasts, —  a  daily 
text  and  daily  prayer,  with  the  whole  heart 
in  them,  would  make  you  flourish  like  the 
Palm.  You  would  realise  something  of  the 
life  of  God  in  your  own  soul,  and  your  shining, 
healthful  aspect  would  draw  forth  the  excla- 
mation, "  0  Lord  of  hosts,  blessed  is  the  man 
whose  strength  is  in  thee." 

The  Palm  is  a  tree  of  remarkable  beauty. 
Apart  from  all  its  associations  there  is  some- 
thing in  its  slim  uprightness,  its  verdant 
canopy,  and  the  silvery  flashes  of  its  waving 
plumes,  which  glads  the  eye  that  gazes.  And 
so  is  there  in  a  person  truly  gracious.  If 
your  character  be  completely  Christian;  if 
k2 


102  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

there  be  in  it  so  much  of  grace  that  the  gra- 
cious has  all  grown  natural ;  if  your  affections 
be  brought  obedient  to  Christ  Jesus ;  if  your 
maxims  of  conduct  be  scriptural,  and  your 
motives  in  acting  Christian,  there  will  be 
instruction  and  joy  in  beholding  you.  Your 
growth  will  be  erect  and  aspiring.  The  ivy 
creeps  and  the  bramble  trails,  but  the  Palm, 
in  its  perpendicular  uprightness,  dwells  on 
high,  and  seeks  the  things  above.  And  the 
fairest  Christians  are  those  whose  pure  and 
lofty  affections  lift  them  sublimely  above  all 
that  is  low  and  debasing,  and  whose  heaven- 
pointing  demeanour  betokens  an  upgoing 
heart.  Whosoever  is  anxious  to  become  a 
consistent  and  conspicuous  Christian,  must 
keep  aloof  from  the  mean  enjoyments  and 
paltry  expedients,  the  tattling  curiosity  and 
malignant  constructions,  of  a  world  incredu- 
lous of  the  highest  goodness,  because  inca- 
pable of  exerting  it ;  and,  aware  that  no 
permanent  motive  to  well-doing  can  be  found 
here  below,  he  must  seek  it  in  that  Saviour 
whose  smile  it  elicits,  and  in  that  Heaven 
where  it  all  will  be  found  again.  Some  trees 
are  crooked,  but  the  Palm  is  straight,  and, 


THE  rALM.  103 

standing  forth  in  its  unbending  altitude, 
spreads  all  its  foliage  to  the  sun.  And,  if 
yours  be  a  flourishing  Christianity,  there 
will  be  no  crooks  nor  zigzags  in  it.  A  con- 
science void  of  offence  Avill  give  a  gay  security 
to  your  goings  out  and  comings  in.  Never 
meeting  the  neighbour  whom  you  have  in- 
jured, nor  the  man  who  has  aught  ignomi- 
nious to  allege  against  you;  haunted  by  no 
sense  of  hoUowness,  and  no  forebodings  for 
the  future;  harbouring  no  bitter  feelings, 
and  hiding  no  sinister  designs,  you  will 
readily  come  to  the  light,  and  never  fear 
that  it  will  make  your  deeds  too  manifest. 
And  just  as  your  frank,  explicit  character 
will  declare  you  a  child  of  day,  your  evenly 
icnse  and  the  sweetness  of  your  disposition 
will  justify  you  as  one  of  Wisdom's  children. 
There  are  trees  which  have  knots  of  weak- 
ness in  their  substance,  and  gnarled  projec- 
tions on  their  surface.  But  the  Palm  is  not 
only  erect  and  tall ;  its  stem  is  fair  and  even. 
From  the  root  to  the  topmost  tuft,  it  springs 
round,  elegant,  and  equal,  with  neither  galls 
nor  disfiguring  bunches.  There  are  crotch- 
etty   Christians ;   but   they   are   not   palms. 


104  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

There  are  professors  so  peculiar  that  you  can 
never  count  on  them ;  what  they  are  to-day 
is  no  presumption  for  what  they  shall  be  to- 
morrow. They  may  have  many  good  points 
and  noble  qualities ;  but  their  fellowship  is 
marred,  and  their  usefulness  frustrated,  by 
whims  which  no  sagacity  can  predict,  and 
caprices  to  which  not  even  "  the  patience  of 
the  saints  "  can  conform.  Christian  reader, 
cultivate  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit ;  that  mag- 
nanimity which  is  calm  and  considerate,  and 
which  tries  to  look  at  this  day's  grievances 
in  to-morrow's  light ;  that  elastic  and  happy 
temper  which,  being  the  growth  of  grace, 
shall  be  independent  of  the  weather, — that 
serenity  which,  whether  in  fog,  or  sickness, 
or  hunger,  or  in  sunshine,  and  health,  and 
bodily  comfort,  "is  not  easily  provoked;" 
that  "charity  which  suifereth  long  and  is 
kind,  which  hopeth  all  things,  cndureth  all 
things."  And  if  this  grace  be  in  you, — if 
your  spirit  be  so  ruled  that  men  find  3'ou 
the  same  yesterday  and  to-day, — your  heart 
fixed  amidst  vexations,  and  amidst  all  its 
trials  your  temper  tranquil,  they  will  jDcr- 
ceive  that  the  religion   from   above  is   full 


THE  PALM.  105 

of  good  fruits,  and  will  admire  its  peaceful 
fruits  in  you. 

Nor  must  we  forget  that  foliage  which  is 
one  chief  glory  of  the  palm.  Each  several 
frond  in  its  graceful  arching,  and  its  long 
and  taper  leaflets,  with  the  gloss  of  unfading 
verdure,  is  such  a  natural  symbol  of  hope  and 
joy  and  exultation,  that  the  palm-branch  has 
stood  for  ages  the  emblem  of  victory.  It  was 
twisted  into  the  verdant  booths  at  the  Feast 
of  Tabernacles ;  it  w^as  borne  aloft  by  the 
multitude  when  they  escorted  Messiah  to  his 
coronation  in  Jerusalem.  "  And  lo  !  before 
the  throne  in  heaven,  and  before  the  Lamb, 
a  great  multitude,  clothed  with  white  robes, 
and  palms  in  their  hands."  *  And  every  be- 
liever should  flourish  like  the  palm.  Not  only 
should  "  his  leaf  never  fade,"  f  it  should  not 
even  sully.  Some  leaves  are  so  viscid  and 
clammy,  that  the  dust  settles  and  adheres. 
And  some  professors,  who  perhaps  are  genuine, 
are  so  powdered  over  with  a  constant  secu- 
larity  that  their  leaf  is  always  dingy.  They 
are  wayfaring  trees ;  and  if  the  shower  of 
some  special  ordinance  or  solemnising  dispen- 
*  Rev.  vii.  9.  f  Psalm  i.  3. 


106  EMnLEMS  FKOM  EDF.X. 

satlon  should  wasli  their  foliage  into  a  momen- 
tary freshness,  the  cares  of  this  life  soon 
deface  it  again.  But  in  the  heart  of  the  de- 
sert the  palm  contrives  to  cast  the  dust  quick 
as  it  alights,  and  keeps  its  slender  leaflets 
pure.  And  so.  Christian  brethren,  be  it  your 
endeavour  to  maintain  not  only  a  blameless, 
but  a  beauteous  character,  the  full  circulation 
and  the  fresh  attire  of  a  flourishing  Chris- 
tianity. You  must  go  into  the  world  to-mor- 
row. You  must  do  many  dull  and  irksome 
things,  or  many  things  apparently  remote 
from  religion.  But  if  you  have  found  out 
the  secret  of  spiritual-mindedness,  you  will 
come  home  fit  for  the  prayer-meeting,  or  for 
the  Christian  friend,  or  the  family  worship. 
In  the  midst  of  all  tlie  secularities  which 
have  been  floating  around,  you  will  keep  your 
garments  clean.  The  palm  has  no  holiday 
clothing.  Its  branch  is  equally  green  whe- 
ther an  emperor  or  an  outlaw  pass  under  it. 
Summer  and  winter  it  is  always  the  same. 
And  so  a  beauteous  Christianity  is  that  which 
loses  none  of  its  loveliness  to  the  eye  that 
oftenest  views  it.  If  you  be  respectable  in 
public, — if  you  bo  serious  and  fervent  in  the 


THE  PALM.  107 

sanctuary, — if  your  conversation  be  rational 
or  religious  in  society; — but  if  you  be  com- 
mon-place at  home,  —  if  you  be  cross  and 
censorious,  frivolous  and  silly,  worldly  and 
wearisome  at  your  own  fireside, — if  you  be 
one  of  those  trees  which  need  brushing  before 
they  are  fit  to  be  seen,  such  dusty  affinities 
prove  that  your  nature  is  not  that  of  the  palm. 
If  full  of  sap  your  leaf  will  be  evergreen  ; 
and  those  who  know  you  best  will  love  you 
most,  and  be  the  best  persuaded  of  your  sim- 
plicity and  godly  sincerity.  And  to  crown 
the  whole ;  if  yours  be  a  palmy  growth, 
yours  will  be  a  religion  of  happiness  and 
praise.  A  fair  sight  it  is  when  the  breeze 
flits  by,  and  every  ray  of  the  feathery  coronet 
twinkles  to  the  morning  sun, — the  desert's 
anthem, — the  palm-tree's  orison.  Nature  gave 
the  hint  to  man,  and  to  God's  glory  waved 
her  verdant  plumes  before  the  victor  learned 
to  wave  them  to  his  own.  And  so,  dear 
friend,  if  yours  be  the  right  religion,  it  will 
be  imbued  with  blessedness  and  clothed  witli 
praise.  You  "  will  be  fat  and  flourisliing," 
"  to  show  that  the  Lord  is  upright."  Through 
the  greatness  of  his  work  your  heart  will  be 


108  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

made  riglit  glad.  His  greatest  work  redemp- 
tion, will  often  swell  in  upon  your  spirit  with 
new  surprise,  and  the  Clirist  that  is  yours, 
and  the  Comforter  that  is  yours,  and  the 
heaven  which  is  soon  to  be  yours,  will  bear 
baelv  jour  waking  glory  into  astonished  silence 
and  heart-murmured  adoration ;  and  lesser 
gifts,  less,  but  most  precious,  will  be  a  sweet 
relief  to  the  overmastering  emotion ;  and,  by 
giving  outlet  to  the  gratitude,  you  will  sanc- 
tify the  gift  and  seal  it  in  sacredncss  and 
sweet  memorial  on  your  own  soul.  Habitual 
faith  will  give  perennial  cheerfulness.  If 
"  fat "  you  will  be  "  flourishing."  The  peace 
of  God  within  will  force  off  the  withered 
twigs  of  care  and  foreboding  and  worldly- 
mindedness,  and  give  you  the  daily  freshness 
of  one  careful  for  nothing.  "I  am  now," 
writes  one,  '*  near  the  end  of  my  warfare.  I 
never  had  such  a  variety  of  affairs  to  manage 
as  a  man  in  so  much  business  as  yourself,  but 
I  had  a  large  young  family  very  dear  to  me, 
and  not  enough  for  their  maintenance  from 
year  to  year ;  and,  in  case  of  my  death,  they 
were  to  be  destitute.  I  was,  however,  won- 
derfully free  and  cheerful  in  my  heart.     I 


THE  PALM.  109 

think  I  should  not  have  been  more  so,  if  I 
had  been  without  a  child.  My  preservative 
was  wholly  this  :  '  He  that  hath  the  Son  hath 
life.'  A  full  and  powerful  conviction  of  this 
truth  was  attended  with  constant  prayer  for 
them  and  myself,  that  we  might  have  this 
one  thing  needful,  which  by  this  means  grew 
in  price  and  value.  Was  Christ  enough  for 
peace,  comfort,  and  joy  to  the  first  Christians  ; 
and  is  He  not  now  the  same  ?  Will  He  not 
be  enough  for  me  and  my  children  ? "  And 
to  like  purport  writes  another  :  "  Yesterday 
I  was  very  much  taken  up  in  house  affairs. 
Various  things  occurred  which  would  at  some 
times  have  been  a  burden,  but  everything 
seemed  blest.  These  words  were  all  day  the 
language  of  my  heart : 

"  '  With  thee  conversing  I  forget 
All  time,  and  toil,  and  care; 
Labour  is  rest,  and  toil  is  sweet, 
If  thou,  my  God,  be  there.'  " 

Few  trees  can  equal  the  Palm  in  absolute 
usefulness.  Its  shadow  refreshes  the  weary 
traveller.  Its  sweet  and  abundant  fruit  re- 
stores his  strength.  And  when  his  soul  fail- 
eth   him   for   thirst,   its   welcome  telegraph 

L 


110  E:.i!).M::.rs  from  eden. 

announces,  Here  is  water.  The  light-house 
of  the  wilderness,  nature's  simple  hostelry, 
its  beacon  has  darted  life  into  many  a  glassy 
eye,  and  has  forwarded  to  the  home,  which  he 
hardly  hoped  to  see  again,  many  a  sinking  wan- 
derer ; — so  that  glad  associations  and  grateful 
offices  have  gone  ftir  to  enhance  its  beauty. 
And  in  the  tender  mercy  of  God  there  are 
distributed  through  the  Church  of  Christ,  and 
consequently  through  the  world,  many  per- 
sons who,  in  beneficence,  flourish  like  the  palm. 
To  do  good  and  communicate  they  never  for- 
get. They  cannot  avoid  it.  It  is  now  spon- 
taneous with  them,  for  God  gave  them  the 
disposition  when  He  gave  them  their  new 
nature.  Like  a  cool  shadow  in  a  scorching 
day,  their  counsel  revives  the  perplexed,  and 
their  sympathy  cheers  the  sad.  Like  the 
clustering  dates  ungrudgingly  showered  on 
the  passenger,  their  generosity  and  hospitality 
are  a  boon  to  all  who  need  them.  And  like 
the  palm-tree  pointing  to  the  hidden  well, 
their  sure  direction  guides  the  weary  seeker 
to  the  Fountain  where  he  drinks  and  lives 
for  ever.  Such  a  one  was  Barnabas,  the  Son 
of  Consolation,  in  whose  large  heart  and  ten- 


Tin:  i'A!.:\r.  Ill 

der  wisdom,  afflicted  consciences  and  wounded 
spirits  found  the  balm  which  healed  them,  "  a 
good  man,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Gliost."  And 
such  Avere  Gains,  and  Aquila,  and  Lydia, 
and  Dorcas,  whose  willing  roof  and  untiring 
bounty  made  churches  their  debtors,  and  who 
found  in  the  prayers  of  the  poor  their  pay- 
ment. And  such  was  Philip  the  Evangehst, 
who  put  the  timely  question  to  the  Ethiopian, 
and  businc^;::-like  and  brother-like  sat  down 
in  the  chariot  beside  him,  and  pointed  out  so 
plain  that  way  to  heaven  which  the  earnest 
stranger  was  so  fiin  to  find.  And  such  in 
later  times  have  been  many  of  the  Church 
Universal's  worthies  :  Bernard  Gilpin,  whose 
open  hand  and  inviting  door  softened  towards 
the  Gospel  the  rude  heart  of  Northumber- 
land ;  John  Thornton,  of  whom  it  was  re- 
marked, "  Were  there  but  a  thousand  loving 
Christians  of  great  opulence  like-minded  with 
him,  the  nation  would  be  convinced  of  the 
good  operation  of  the  Gospel;"  William  Wil- 
berforce,  who,  in  addition  to  countless  acts  of 
considerate  philanthropy,  sought  out  and  sent 
to  college  young  m.en  of  principle  and  pro- 
mise, and  saw  his  liberality  rev/ardcd  when 


112  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

they  became  judges  of  the  land,  and  distin- 
guished ministers  of  the  Gospel ;  Howell 
Harris,  who  filled  his  Trevecca  mansion  with 
scores  of  disabled  and  destitute  Christians, 
and,  amidst  the  tears  of  a  hundred  adopted 
children,  passed  away  to  that  beloved  Saviour 
whom  hungry  he  fed,  and  a  stranger  he  had 
taken  in ;  *  Mrs.  Fletcher,  of  Madeley,  who 
devoted  her  long  widowhood  to  prayer  and 
active  kindness,  and  re-pcopled  her  desolate 
home  with  orphans  and  the  pious  poor ;  John 
Newton,  whose  dusky  Coleman-street  cham- 
ber shone  with  a  heavenly  radiance  in  many 
a  memory,  for  there,  amid  his  affectionate  ex- 
planations, the  cross  stood  out  to  their  tearful 
view,  and  for  the  first  time  they  learned  to 
find  in  a  Saviour's  side  the  double  refuge  from 
sin  and  from  sorrow.  And  such  in  your  place 
and  your  measure  may  each  of  you  who  are 
Christians  at  all,  aspire  to  become.  "  Herein 
is  the  Father  glorified  that  ye  bear  much 
fruit."  Kind  looks,  kind  words,  kind  deeds, 
advice  thoughtfully  and  honestly  given,  trouble 
cheerfully  taken,  visits  to  the  sick  and  the 
mourning,  when  your  heart  goes  with  you  and 
*  Matt.  XXV.  35,  40. 


THE  PALM.  113 

you  are  in  a  mcod  for  priijcr,  gifts  of  vour 
siibstancc,  larg«  enough  to  make  you  in- 
terested in  tlic  cause  to  which  you  contribute, 
and  intercessions  as  earnest  as  these  gifts  are 
cordial :  such  are  true  fruits  of  righteousness; 
such  are  the  genuine  produce  of  a  thriving 
Pahn. 

And  not  to  enlarge  too  much,  we  merely 
notice  the  circumstance  that  this  interesting 
tree  is  productive  to  the  last,  and  brings  forth 
its  best  fruit  in  old  age.  The  best  dates  are 
said  to  be  gathered  when  it  has  reached  a 
hundred  years.  So  is  it  with  eminent  Christ- 
ians :  the  older  the  better ;  the  older  the  more 
beautiful ;  nay,  the  older  the  more  useful ; 
and,  different  from  worldlings,  the  older  the 
happier.  The  best  Christians  are  these  who 
improve  to  the  end,  who  grow  in  grace  and 
in  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ  to  the  very 
close  of  life.  They  loved  Him  at  first,  but 
now  they  love  Him  more.  At  first  they  were 
selfish,  and  only  sought  to  escape  from  wrath ; 
now  they  are  jealous  of  the  Saviour's  honour, 
and  long  to  be  saved  from  sin.  At  first  they 
only  thought  of  the  Priest ;  now  they  perceive 
the  Priest  upon  a  throne,  and  love  not  only 
l2 


114  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

the  Saviour's  cross,  but  the  Saviour's  yoke 
and  the  Saviour's  laws.  Cfne  Jesus  is  their 
King.  And  they  grow  in  knowledge  of  them- 
selves. The  truth  to  which  they  once  assented 
becomes  a  deep-wrought  experience.  "  In  me, 
that  is,  in  my  flesh,  dwelleth  no  good  thing." 
And  the  discovery  of  this  depravity,  the 
knowledge  how  debased  and  worthless  their 
nature  has  become,  instead  of  making  them 
morose  and  bitter  towards  their  fellow-sharers 
in  the  fall,  makes  them  lenient  and  conside- 
rate. They  know  themselves  too  well  to  ex- 
pect perfection  in  their  friends,  and  find 
brethren  to  whom  they  can  stick  close  in  the 
face  of  obvious  failings ;  and  even  when  they 
hear  of  awful  wickedness,  indignation  is  chas- 
tened by  compassion  and  humility.  It  is 
something  of  the  old  Reformer's  feeling  when 
he  saw  the  malefactor  led  to  prison : — "  There, 
but  for  the  grace  of  God,  goes  John  Bradford." 
And  they  grow  in  wisdom.  Long  experience, 
and  still  more  "  the  secret  of  the  Lord,"  dispas- 
sionate observation  and  heavenly-mindedness, 
have  given  them  sagacity ;  and  sometimes  in 
homely  adages,  sometimes  in  direct  and  sober 
counsel,  they  deal  forth  that  mellow  wisdom. 


THE  PALM.  1 1 5 

And  they  grow  in  spirituality.  We  have  seen 
those  aged  pilgrims  to  whom  earthly  things  at 
last  grew  insipid ;  they  had  no  curiosity  for 
the  news  of  the  day,  and  little  taste  for  fresh 
and  entertaining  books.  They  stuck  to  God's 
testimonies,  and  you  never  went  in  to  see  them 
but  the  ample  Bible  lay  open  on  the  table  or 
the  counterpane  ;  and  they  could  tell  the  por- 
tion which  had  been  that  morning's  food,  or 
the  meditation  of  the  previous  night.  The 
Word  of  God  dwelt  in  them  so  richly  that 
you  could  see  they  were  becoming  fit  to 
dwell  with  God  ;  for  when  a  mind  has  become 
thoroughly  scriptural,  it  wants  but  another 
step  to  make  it  celestial.  And  the  last  har- 
vest came,  and  the  last  gleanings  of  their 
precious  words,  and  when  next  we  went  that 
way  their  place  kndw  them  no  longer.  They 
were  flourishing  in  the  courts  of  God's  house 
on  high,  and  we  should  sit  under  their  shadow 
and  be  regaled  by  their  goodness  no  more. 
But  when  we  recollected  how  fair  their 
Christian  profession  was,  how  beneficent  and 
serviceable  they  had  ever  been,  and  remem- 
bered that  their  last  days  were  their  brightest, 
and  their  last  fruits  their  fairest,  we  said  over 


116  EAIIU.KMS  FROM  EDEN. 

to  ourselves,  "  The  righteous  shall  flourish 
like  the  Palm-tree.  Those  that  be  planted  in 
the  house  of  the  Lord  shall  flourish  in  the 
courts  of  our  God.  They  shall  bring  forth 
fruit  in  old  age ;  they  shall  be  fat  and  flourish- 
ing ;  to  show  that  the  Lord  is  upright ;  He  is 
my  rock,  and  there  is  no  unrighteousness  in 
Him." 

Dear  Christian  Reader,  when  your  own  ear 
cannot  hear  it,  may  this  be  your  eulogy  ;  when 
your  own  C3'e  cannot  read  it,  may  this  be  your 
epitaph.  In  the  meanwhile,  for  the  sake  of 
that  Saviour  who  is  dishonoured  by  proud  and 
selfish  and  unlovely  disciples,  do  you  strive 
and  pray  for  consistency.  And  for  your  own 
soul's  sake,  which  is  dulled  by  defective  views 
and  depressed  by  each  besetting  sin,  do  you 
seek  a  serene  and  lofty  faith,  do  you  covet 
earnestly  a  blameless  conversation.  Let  your 
triumphs  over  self  and  high-hearted  zeal  for 
the  Saviour,  let  the  largeness  of  your  spirit 
and  your  heavenly  elevation,  let  the  exuber- 
ance of  your  goodness  and  the  multitude  of 
its  special  acts,  let  the  fulness  of  your  aflec- 
tions  and  the  freshness  of  your  feelings,  and 
the  abundance  of  your  beneficence,  make  the 


THE  PALM.  1 1 7 

Christian  manifest  and  unmistakeable.  Let 
your  happy  piety  be  the  fiir-eyed  signal  an- 
nouncing an  Oftsis  in  the  Desert,  and  pray 
that  your  Church  or  congregation  may  become 
to  weary  pilgrims  another  Elim,  where  when 
they  came  they  found  "twelve  wells  of  water, 
and  threescore  and  ten  Palm-trees.'* 


THE  GARDEN  INCLOSED. 


'  A  garden  inclosed  is  my  sister,  my  spouse, 
A  spring  sliut  up,  a  fountain  sealed. 
A  paradise  of  pomegranates  are  thy  productions, 
Of  delicious  fruits,  cypress,  and  spikenard. 
Spikenard,  and  saffron,  calamus,  and  cinnamon, 
With  all  trees  of  frankincense, 
Myrrh  and  aloes,  with  all  the  chief  spices  : 
A  fountain  of  gardens,  a  well  of  living  waters, 
Streams  from  Lebanon. 
Awake,  O  North  wind,  come,  thou  South, 
Blow  upon  my  garden,  that  the  spices  may  flow  out ; 
That  my  beloved  may  come  into  his  garden 
And  eat  its  pleasant  fruits." 


Christ  has  a  garden.  There  are  flowers  to 
be  found  in  the  wilderness  ;  but  when  in  the 
hedge-row  or  on  the  mountain-side  you  find  a 
plant  of  rare  beauty,  it  is  yojir  instant  impulse 
to  fetch  it  home.  You  want  to  have  it  near 
at  hand,  where  you  can  see  it  every  day ;  and 


THE  GARDEN  INCLOSED.  119 

30  you  transplant  it.  You  take  it  to  your 
garden,  and  in  the  shady  nook  or  on  the  open 
parterre,  you  give  it  a  new  home, — the  place 
where  it  is  likely  to  thrive  and  blossom  best. 

And  so,  there  have  occasionally  existed 
solitary  saints.  Like  Joseph  in  Egypt,  like 
Lot  in  Sodom,  there  have  from  time  to  time 
iloiirished  in  unlikely  places  trees  of  righteous- 
ness : — such  as  Thomas  a  Kempis  inditing 
his  "Imitation  of  Christ"  in  the  midst  of 
coarse  and  lazy  friars, — or  that  monk  of  Mount 
Ararat  whom  Henry  Martyn  found  walking 
with  God  amidst  the  superstition  and  gross- 
ness  of  an  Armenian  convent.  And  just  as 
the  florist  is  filled  with  rapture  when  in  some 
unexpected  region  he  alights  on  a  specimen 
superb  in  its  glory,  and  for  the  moment  deems 
it  quite  matchless, — so,  when  in  the  dry  places 
of  Church  History  or  in  the  dreary  expanse 
of  secular  society,  we  chance  to  encounter  a 
fervent  b::licYer,  in  the  gladness  of  surprise 
and  in  the  contrast  with  all  around  we  feel  as 
if  his  beauty  were  peerless,  and  as  if  no  culture 
could  compete  with  the  freshness  and  fulness 
of  his  free  and  Heaven-fostered  development. 

But  it  is  the  will  of  Christ  that  his  people 


120  EMBLEMS  FEOM  EDEN. 

should  dwell  together ;  and  for  this  purpose 
he  has  provided  that  sacred  inclosure,  the 
Christian  Church.  Fenced  round,  so  as  to 
exclude  the  boar  of  the  forest  and  the  mis- 
chievous spoiler, — its  generous  soil  is  kept 
clear  of  weeds,  and  in  graceful  groups  and 
mutually-sustaining  adjustments  God  plants 
His  people  there  in  families.  And  if  even 
among  thorns  the  lily  was  fair, — if  even  on 
the  open  heath  the  thyme  and  the  myrtle  shed 
exquisite  odour, — that  lily  is  lovelier  now  as 
it  stands  amongst  gentle  companions  "who  do 
not  tarnish  or  tear  it,  and  the  fragrance  of 
these  gentle  refugees  is  richer  as  it  comes  and 
goes  amidst  the  blended  joy  of  all  the  incense- 
breathing  summer. 

This  garden  is  fenced.  It  is  a  "garden 
inclosed."  Around  it  is  the  wall  of  fire,  the 
Divine  protection ;  and  the  more  visible  wall 
of  human  demarcation  and  ecclesiastical  dis- 
cipline. In  every  age  God  has  protected  and 
preserved  His  people ;  and  even  in  the  days  of 
fiercest  persecution — when  it  looked  as  if  the 
hedge  were  entirely  broken  down  and  the 
wild  beast  might  devour  it  at  his  pleasure, 
—  even  then  in  some   Roman  catacomb  or 


THE  GARDEN  INCLOSED.  121 

Coclos}Tiaii  valley  or  Waldensian  fastness, 
God  hid  His  remnant  and  kept  np  a  seed  to 
serve  Him.  And  for  the  better  conservation 
of  true  religion,  He  has  appointed  a  govern- 
ment in  His  Church.  He  has  intrusted  it  to 
those  whose  business  is  to  tend  it  and  keep 
it ;  and  whilst  they  do  their  best  to  root  out 
immorality  and  error,  they  are  also  to  do  their 
utmost  to  foster  weak  faith  and  restore  in- 
firmity,— binding  up  the  bruised  reed,  restrain- 
ing the  extravagant  off-shoot,  and  restoring 
to  its  right  place  the  wayward  shoot  which 
quits  the  supporting  espalier. 

In  this  garden  there  is  great  variety.  There 
are  plants  famous  for  their  beauty,  and  others 
for  their  medicinal  virtues ;  some  that  are 
prized  for  their  delightful  perfume,  and  others 
for  their  "pleasant  fruits."  Not  only  is  it 
an  orchard  of  pomegranates,  with  its  avenues 
of  cypress,  but  there  are  spikenard  and  saf- 
fron, calamus  and  cinnamon,  trees  of  frank- 
incense, and  all  the  chief  spices.  It  is  man 
that  creates  monotony.  It  is  man  that  fills 
a  garden  with  a  repetition  of  the  self-same 
vegetation.  It  is  man  that  clothes  entire 
communities  in  grey,  or  drab,  or  russet,  and 


122  i::ai)LEMS  fkom  edkx. 

who  tries  to  rcacli  perfection  by  making  cacli 
the  facsimile  of  his  fellow.  But,  like  the 
great  Creator,  the  new-creating  Spirit  loves 
variety;  and  in  the  Church  of  Christ  there 
is  room  for  characters  as  diverse  as  the  rustic 
Amos  and  the  imperial  Solomon,  as  Moses 
so  meek  and  much-enduring,  and  Paul  so 
self-asserting  and  so  spirited,  as  John  so 
ethereal  and  contcmj^lative,  and  James  so 
homely  and  so  practical.  And  just  as  we 
see  in  a  garden  a  whole  plat  devoted  to  a 
favourite  flower,  a  border  where  none  but 
carnations  or  verbenas  bloom,  so  within  the 
great  inclosure  of  Christ's  own  Church,  arc 
many  distinct  communities,  —  "  churches,"  as 
we  call  them,  but  in  reality  only  so  many 
clumps  or  denominations  within  the  one  great 
Church  ;  and  to  the  eye  which  is  not  entirely 
wedded  to  a  particular  tint  or  pattern,  there 
is  a  beauty  in  the  groups  which  bring  richly 
together  distinctive  attributes;  —  in  Pres- 
byterian order  and  Wesleyan  fervour,  in  Con-- 
grcgational  liberty  and  Anglican  obedience,  in 
Moravian  devotcdness  and  Quaker  contcnt- 
nieiit,  in  the  godliness  which  makes  the  Lu- 
theran so  happy  and  endearing  in  the  life  that 


THE  GAP.DEX  INCLOSED.  l_u 

now  is,  and  wlilcli  fixes  tlie  Calvinist  so  sub- 
limely on  tlie  life  tliat  is  to  come.  And  as 
with  communities,  so  with  individual  mem- 
bers ;  there  is  boundless  and  beautiful  variety. 
There  are  flowers  so  fair  that  whilst  you  eye 
them,  you  kindle  up  and  become  for  the  mo- 
ment a  brighter,  sunnier  man ;  and  between 
the  leaves  of  your  Bible  or  memorandum-book 
you  treasure  up  one  blossom  of  the  heath  or 
the  heart's-ease  to  recall  that  vision  of  delight. 
And  there  are  flowers  so  fragrant  that  though 
you  care  not  to  take  their  picture, — like  the 
myrrh  or  the  spikenard  they  have  no  peculiar 
grace  nor  any  brilliancy  of  bloom, — you  love 
the  spot  they  haunt,  and  as  you  pass  there  comes 
over  your  spirit  a  visitation  soft  and  sooth- 
ing, which  you  scarcely  notice  for  the  moment, 
but  which  makes  you  bless  their  memory. 
And  so  there  are  lovely  characters, —  Chris- 
tians whom  it  does  you  good  to  look  upon ; 
whose  beauty  of  holiness  beautifies  the  be-, 
holder,  so  that  in  their  presence  he  is  actually 
a  more  generous  or  unworldly  man  ;  and  quo- 
table Christians, — men  whose  good  deeds  or 
edifying  words  you  can  chronicle,  so  that  long 
after  they  are  gone  you  can  still  open  the 


124  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

biographic  record  and  recall  in  unfaded  fresh- 
ness the  trait  of  goodness  or  the  word  in 
season.  And  there  are  fragrant  characters. 
You  can  scarcely  define  their  excellence  ;  you 
cannot  quote  their  brilliant  sayings,  and  their 
deeds  do  not  make  anecdotes :  and  yet  such  a 
sweet  savour  of  Christ  surrounds  them,  and 
with  such  an  atmosphere  of  love  and  goodness 
do  they  fill  their  daily  sphere,  that  the  nooks 
to  which  memory  loves  to  fly  back  and  nestle 
are  the  bowers  which  they  gladdened,  and  the 
homes  which  they  blessed  by  the  perpetual 
June  of  their  presence.  But  besides  the  beau- 
tiful and  the  fragrant, — the  characters  which 
shed  over  the  Church's  face  its  loveliness  and 
which  fill  its  precincts  with  a  heavenly  charm, 
there  are  the  fruitful, — "the  pomegranates  and 
pleasant  fruits," — the  men  to  whose  substan- 
tial services,  to  whose  thoughtful  kindnesses, 
and  generous  deeds,  and  systematic  labours, 
the  world  is  so  much  indebted : — Gains  mine 
host,  Tryphena  and  Tryphosa  who  labour  in 
the  Lord, — the  evangelists  Avho  go  everywhere 
preaching  the  word, —  the  teachers  who  spend 
and  are  spent  in  our  week-day  and  Sunday 
scliools, — the  Dorcas  who  makes  garments  for 


THE  GARDEN  IXCLOSED.  125 

tiic  poor, — tlio  landed  proprietor  or  tlie  private 
citizen,  who  visits  from  house  to  house,  and 
who  endeavours  to  elevate  in  intelligence  and 
moral  worth  the  poor  and  depressed  around 
him.  And  although  less  popular,  by  no  means 
unimportant,  are  the  bitter  herbs,  the  anti- 
dotes and  tonics,  which  also  find  a  place :  for 
there  is  need  for  myrrh  and  aloes  as  well  as 
roses  and  lilies.  We  may  not  like  the  sharp 
reprover,  the  stern  and  uncompromising  re- 
former, so  well  as  the  mild  and  bright-beaming 
philanthropist ;  and  yet  that  reprover  may  be 
the  truest  benefactor ;  and  there  would  be  little 
scope  for  the  philanthropist,  if  he  had  not  as 
his  pioneer  the  energetic  reformer.  It  is  sad 
ignorance  of  the  requirements  of  human  na- 
ture to  disparage  men  who  fulfilled  so  great  a 
function  as  Latimer  and  Knox,  as  Cartwright 
and  IMelville,  as  Clarkson  and  the  Haldanes : 
— men  who  in  their  loyalty  to  Truth  forfeited 
much  present  popularity,  and  who  kept  up  the 
Church's  tone  by  the  comforts  they  renounced 
and  the  sacrifices  they  endured  in  striving 
against  error  and  sin. 

These  plants  so  various  and  so  pleasant 
owe  their  vitality  and  vigour  to  the  "foun- 
m2 


126  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

tain  of  gardens :" — and  this  fountain  is  called 
both  "a  well  of  living  waters"  and  "streams 
from  Lebanon."  Even  in  our  own  isle,  with 
all  its  clouds  and  vapours,  there  is  sometimes 
danger  lest  the  garden  be  burnt  up ;  and 
when  the  leaves  hang  flaccid  on  the  newly- 
planted  shrub,  and  when  delicate  blossoms 
shrivel  up,  refusing  to  open  to  the  scorch- 
ing beam;  as  soon  as  the  sun  has  set,  you 
go  to  the  brook  or  the  fountain  and  lave 
the  roots  with  a  plentiful  libation :  and  then 
when  the  morrow  dawns,  the  leaves  spread 
out  so  broad  and  firm,  and  the  reviving  blos- 
soms look  up  and  thank  you  with  a  smile. 
But  in  sultrier  lands  they  do  not  even  trust 
to  this.  In  the  gardens  of  Damascus  you 
may  see  so  many  channels  digged,  and  along 
them  all  a  little  rill  meandering,  and  con- 
veying to  the  foo  of  each  pomegranate  or 
orange-tree  the  streams  from  Lebanon, — the 
very  river  which  has  melted  from  the  snowy 
peaks,  and  which,  after  refreshing  the  tall 
cedars,  now  comes  down  to  these  sultry  plains 
and  converts  its  dusty  expanse  into  an  earthly 
paradise.  These  world-famed  orchards  do 
not  depend  on  any  tank  or  pond ;  but  they 


THE  GARDEN  INCLOSED.  1  27 

drink  "living  water,"  and  convert  into  cool 
shadow  and  delicious  fruits  the  liquid  trea- 
sure which  the  friendly  mountain  has  hoarded 
since  last  winter. 

The  fountain  of  Christ's  garden  is  the  means 
of  grace.  A  believer  droops.  In  that  corner 
of  the  garden  where  he  is  planted  the  soil  is 
thin.  It  is  a  thirsty  land  where  his  lot  is 
cast, — a  land  where  Christian  society  is  rare, 
or  where  the  preaching  of  the  word  is  vague 
and  vapid.  And  the  good  man  feels  it.  His 
religion  shrivels.  The  men  by  whose  fervour 
he  was  wont  to  be  roused  or  overawed,  he 
now  begins  to  regard  as  fanatics;  and  the 
good  objects  in  which  he  was  once  so  hearty, 
— missions  to  the  heathen  and  reformatory 
institutions, — he  begins  to  call  Utopian  visions 
and  a  useless  waste  of  money.  But  still  there 
is  a  little  root  of  spiritual  vitality,  and  as 
there  comes  into  the  region  an  earnest  minis- 
try, or  as  there  settles  in  his  neighbourhood 
a  large-hearted  and  much-loving  Christian 
friend,  his  feelings  begin  to  freshen.  There 
is  a  shudder  through  the  deptlis  of  his 
being  as  when  death  re-awakens  into  life ; 
and  shocked   at  his   backslidings, — remem- 


128  EMBLEMS  FKOM  EDEN. 

boring  M^lience  he  has  fallen,  he  repents  and 
does  the  first  works.  And  as  he  begins  to 
distribute  tracts  and  teach  a  Sunday  class, 
and  take  an  interest  in  the  surrounding  cot- 
tagers, people  would  almost  fancy  that  this 
was  the  zeal  of  a  j^oung  convert ; — they  would 
scarcely  suppose  that  it  was  the  revival  of  an 
expiring  life, —  a  return  to  first  love  on  the 
part  of  an  Ephesian  backslider. 

It  is  dry  and  dusty  weather.  The  life 
which  the  Christian  is  constrained  to  lead 
is  much  of  it  too  secular.  His  business  takes 
him  chiefly  among  worldly  men,  and  at  times 
he  cannot  help  being  exceedingly  engrossed. 
Trade  is  precarious,  the  times  are  pressing,  or 
he  has  set  on  foot  a  series  of  experiments,  he 
has  struck  out  a  good  idea,  or  commenced  a 
line  of  traffic  with  which  his  mind  is  busy 
day  and  night.  And  he  can  hardly  disguise 
it  that  the  true  treasure  is  dwindling,  his  soul 
is  declining.  But  just  then  he  is  laid  pro- 
strate by  sickness,  or  death  enters  hisdwehing; 
he  falls  in  with  some  remarkable  book,  or 
hears  a  rousing  sermon  ;  and  as  he  reads,  and 
listens,  and  ponders,  he  is  amazed  at  his  own 
languor,    and    yielding    to   the   providential 


THE  GARDEN  INCLOSED.  129 

admonition  he  renews  his  diligence  in  prac- 
tical piety.  The  things  unseen  come  to  his 
spirit  in  closer  contact,  his  prayers  acquire 
a  new  fulness,  precision,  and  sincerity,  his 
watchfulness  over  himself  is  resumed,  and 
the  brightening  up  of  all  his  piety  betokens 
a  secret  source  of  refreshing. 

But  better  than  this  dependence  on  such 
supplies  as  are  brought  from  the  cistern,  is 
the  case  of  the  man  who  is  "  planted  by  the 
rivers  of  water,"  whose  delight  is  in  the  law 
of  the  Lord,  and  who  makes  it  his  habitual 
meditation.  In  other  words,  that  piety  is 
likely  to  be  the  most  persistent  and  most 
progressive  where  the  appointed  means  of 
grace  are  statedly  employed.  The  Word  of 
God,  the  day  of  rest,  the  house  of  prayer, 
reading,  meditation,  worship,  secret  and 
social,  —  these  are  the  chief  of  the  ordinary 
means.  These  are  the  channels  along  which 
the  streams  from  Lebanon  are  conveyed  to 
every  tree  in  the  garden: — the  truths  and 
thoughts  which,  born  in  the  calm  pure  regions 
overhead,  flow  along  down  the  valley  of  Revela- 
tion, and  which  when  filled  and  penetrated  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  become  "  living  water."  By 


130  EMBLEMS  FKOM  EDEN. 

far  the  most  satisfactory  Christians, — the  most 
abiding  and  most  growthful,  are  those  who 
are  most  stedfast  in  the  use  of  these  stated 
meaiis ;  who  ghidly  go  up  to  the  house  of 
the  Lord,  who  command  their  household  and 
their  children  after  them  to  keep  His  ways, 
who  do  not  restrain  prayer  in  secret  ,Avho  are 
much  and  mighty  in  the  Scriptures,  and  who 
when  they  meet  with  those  who  love  the 
Lord  prize  the  opportunity  to  speak  together 
and  to  call  upon  His  name: — not  only  will 
their  leaf  not  wither,  and  not  only  will  what 
they  produce  come  to  perfection,  but  should 
it  please  the  Lord  to  send  a  season  of  refresh- 
ing they  are  the  likeliest  to  profit  by  the 
plenteous  rain. 

Such,  viewed  by  the  Saviour,  is  His 
Church.  Such  is  the  combination  of  bene- 
ficence and  beauty,  of  fragrance  and  fruitful- 
ness,  produced  by  the  good  Spirit  of  God,  and 
brought  together  in  the  sacred  inclosure  of  the 
Christian  Church.  And  such  is  the  Saviour's 
complacency  in  viewing  the  varied  excellence 
of  this  redeemed  and  regenerate  community. 

"  My  bride  !  my  love  !  in  thee  perfection  meets : 
A  Karden  art  thou,  filled  with  matchless  sweets  ; 


THE  GARDEN  INCLOSED.  131 

A  garden  walled,  those  matchless  sweets  to  shield ; 
A  spring  inclosed,  a  fountain  fresh  and  sealed; 
A  paradise  of  plants,  where  all  unite. 
Dear  to  the  smell,  the  palate,  or  the  sight ; 
Of  rich  pomegranates,  that  at  random  blow; 
Cypress  and  nard  in  fragrant  gales  that  flow ; 
Nard,  saflFron,  cinnamon, —  the  dulcet  airs 
Deep  through  its  canes  the  calamus  prepares ; 
The  scented  aloes,  and  each  shrub  that  showers 
Gums  from  its  veins,  and  spices  from  its  flowers. 
O  pride  of  gardens  I  fount  of  endless  sweets  ! 
Well-spring  of  all  in  Lebanon  that  meets.'* 

Whicli  brings  us  to  the  closing  prayer. 
"  Awake,  O  Nortli  wind  ! "  Clouds  chill  the 
sky.  Over  the  garden,  over  the  soul  of  the 
believer,  hangs  a  gloomy  pall  of  indifference, 
estrangement,  or  error.  He  is  not  loving 
God.  He  sees  no  beauty  in  Christ  why  he 
should  desire  Him.  There  is  no  sun  in  the 
firmament,  no  light  from  the  Saviour's  counte- 
nance, no  attraction  in  the  cross,  nothing  to 
stir  or  expand  his  soul.  But  "  clear  weather 
Cometh  out  of  the  North  country ;"  and,  like 
the  North  wind  waking,  the  Holy  Spirit 
breathes, —  and  not  from  the  face  of  the  sun 
but  from  the  face  of  the  garden,  from  the 
soul  of  the  disciple,  he  blows  away  the  inter- 

*  Mason  Goode. 


132  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDtN. 

cepting  cloud,  and  lets  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness shine  through ;  Divine  realities  are 
again  discerned,  the  closed  petals  open,  faith 
revives,  and  the  recognising  blossom  smiles 
back  to  the  kindly  firmament.  There  is  light, 
knowledge,  truth  apprehended,  the  Gospel 
anew  discovered: — there  is  "  clear  weather." 
But  a  cloudless  sky  is  not  sufficient.  Jn  a 
liard  frost  we  have  seen  a  crimson  rose-bud 
gazing  to  the  sun,  yet  it  shed  no  fragrance 
through  the  clear  but  icy  atmosj^here;  and  in 
order  to  convert  the  blossom  into  balm,  to 
cheer  April  into  June,  we  cry,  "  Come,  thou 
South  wind :"  now  that  the  North  has  chased 
the  clouds  of  darkness  and  unbelief,  and 
cleared  the  sky,  "come,  thou  South,"  and 
with  thy  kind  solvent  melt  my  heart.  "  Blow 
upon  my  garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may 
flow  out."  Coming  warm  from  the  land  of  love, 
— coming  from  the  regions  of  unreserved  bene- 
volence and  enraptured  adoration, —  coming 
from  that  realm  of  happiness  and  praise  which 
enjoys  the  perennial  sunshine  of  Clirist's 
presence,  the  Holy  Spirit  brings  with  Ilini 
the  true  summer  of  the  soul.  Faith  He  sub- 
limes to  full  assurance,  and  conviction  He 
quickens  into  cheerful  activity,  and  principle 


THE  GATIDEN  INCLOSED.  133 

elaboratod  into  holy  feeling  and  fervid  emo- 
tion He  causes  to  flow  forth,  as  spices  do, — a 
beatific  atmosphere  around  the  heavenly  man. 
And  from  a  church  full  of  such  members  the 
fragrance  overflov^^s  and  surprises  the  passer- 
by. For  though  the  garden  is  inclosed,  the 
breeze  is  not  confined:  and,  blowing  where 
he  listeth,  the  South  wind  sometimes  wafts 
the  spicy  odour  far  forth  into  the  outside 
world.  Yes,  the  world  is  the  better,— the 
happier  for  that  Church  which  God  has 
"inclosed"  in  its  midst.  Faith  in  God,  the 
hope  full  of  immortality,  some  connexion 
between  this  world  and  heaven,  the  beauty 
of  holiness,  the  charms  of  disinterested  bene- 
volence,— Avere  it  not  for  that  standing  Church 
the  world  would  hardly  know  such  things: 
but  going  like 

'•An  incense  through  the  midnight  land," 
even  though  the  garden  itself  is  veiled,  and 
they  are  sleepers  whom  the  exquisite  odour 
visits,  it  infuses  pleasant  thoughts  into  their 
dreams  ;  and  waking,  some  have  not  been 
able  to  forget  the  exquisite  sensation,  and, 
searching  for  its  source,  their  own  steps  have 
been  guided  into  the  Garden  Inclosed. 

N 


HARVEST  HOME. 


The  earth  is  full  of  God's  goodness,  and  so  is 
every  season.  Spring,  with  its  opening  blos- 
soms, its  exquisite  odours,  its  suggestions  of 
"  good  things  not  seen  as  yet ;"  and  Summer, 
with  "healing  in  its  wings,"  with  its  balmy 
breezes,  with  its  plenitude  of  life,  and  its 
placid  consciousness  of  power, — each  is  a 
witness  for  Him  whose  name  is  Love.  But 
the  "  fruitful  season  "  is  a  witness  still  plainer, 
and  one  which  speaks  to  the  intelligence  of 
all  mankind.  And,  indeed,  each  contributes 
a  several  item  in  the  testimony  to  the  great 
Creator.  For,  if  Spring  says,  "  How  great 
is  His  beauty!"  and  Summer,  "How  great 
His  benevolence!"  pointing  to  the  rustling 
sheaf  and  the  laden  bough,  saj^s  Autumn, 
"  And  how  great  is  His  bounty!" 

Every  season  is  a  preacher,  but  of  them 


HARVEST  HOME.  135 

all  we  are  inclined  to  think  Autumn  the 
most  popular  and  impressive.  It  needs  no 
acquaintance  with  Nature's  mysteries  to  un- 
derstand his  sermon;  it  needs  no  peculiar 
susceptibility  to  be  carried  along  by  his  direct 
and  homely  eloquence.  In  the  field  which 
he  is  reaping  the  unlettered  rustic  sees  the 
answer  to  the  fourth  petition  of  his  daily 
prayer,  and  the  Christian  philosoj^her  sees 
his  heavenly  Father  giving  bread  to  himself 
and  his  children,  as  plainly  as  if  it  were  sent 
by  the  hand  of  an  angel,  or  rained  through  a 
window  in  heaven.  And  whilst  the  purport 
of  the  discourse  is  so  obvious,  it  is  spoken  to 
great  advantage.  Around  there  is  little  to 
distract,  whilst  there  is  much  to  fix  the 
thoughts,  to  open  the  ear  and  soothe  the 
spirit.  Autumn  is  the  sabbath  of  the  months; 
and  with  its  mellow  light  and  listening  silence, 
the  whole  land  seems  consecrated  into  a . 
temple  hushed  and  holy.  Nor  is  there  lack 
of  ministers.  The  laden  trees  are  priests, 
the  corn-fields  are  choristers;  and,  yielding 
to  the  tranquil  influence,  if  you  yourself  be 
devoutly  silent,  their  psalm  will  come  into 
your  soul: — 


136  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEX. 

"  So  Thou  the  year  most  lib' rally 
Dost  with  Thy  goodness  crown, 
And  all  Thy  paths  abundantly 
On  us  drop  fatness  down. 

They  drop  upon  the  pastures  wide, 

That  do  in  deserts  lie ; 
The  little  hills  on  every  side 

Rejoice  right  pleasantly. 

With  flocks  the  pastures  clothed  be, 
The  vales  with  corn  are  clad ; 

And  now  they  shout  and  sing  to  Thee, 
For  Thou  hast  made  them  glad." 

To  a  mind  that  sees  God  in  everything 
there  is  a  special  "joy  in  harvest."  It  is 
a  new  pledge  of  Jehovah's  faithfulness: — 
another  accomplishment  of  that  ancient  pro- 
mise, "  While  the  earth  remaineth,  seed-time 
and  harvest  shall  not  cease  :"  —  a  promise 
made  all  the  more  striking  by  the  incidents 
which  imperilled  its  fulfilment; — the  winter 
that  looked  as  if  it  would  never  go  away, 
perhaps  the  drought  which  threatened  to 
scorch  the  seed  in  the  baked  and  burning 
furrow;  perhaps  the  cold  skies  which  forbade 
the  ear  to  fill,  or  the  drenching  floods,  which, 
when  filled,  dashed  it  to  the  earth  again; — 


HARVEST  HOME.  137 

but  past  all  these  perils,  or  through  them  all, 
a  mighty  Providence  has  borne  the  suste- 
nance of  a  world,  and,  as  it  spans  the  clouds 
of  the  dissolving  equinox,  the  rainbow  asks 
on  behalf  of  the  great  Covenant-maker, 
"  Hath  one  word  failed  of  all  that  God  hath 
spoken  ?"  And  so  it  proclaims  the  loving- 
kindness  of  the  Lord,  the  care  and  munificence 
of  the  great  Provider.  It  is  not  a  mere  sub- 
sistence He  secures  to  the  children  of  men, 
but  it  is  a  feast  of  fat  things;  not  only  the 
bread  which  strengthens  man's  heart,  but  the 
wine  that  makes  him  glad,  and  the  oil  that 
makes  his  face  to  shine, — all  the  variety  of 
fruits,  and  grains,  and  herbs,  and  spices;  nor 
bread  for  the  children  only,  but  crumbs  for 
the  creatures  under  the  table.  Nor  at  this 
season  can  we  fail  to  mark  the  minuteness  of 
forethought  and  munificence  of  kindness  with 
which  our  heavenly  Father  feeds  the  fowls  of 
the  firmament ;  the  profusion  which  not  only 
fills  the  barn  of  the  husbandman,  but  which, 
in  every  forest  and  every  hedge-row,  has  a 
store-house  for  those  pensioners  of  His  who 
can  take  no  thought  for  the  morrow.  With 
its  banquet-hall  so  wide  and  so  populous, 
n2 


138  EMBLEMS  FEOM  EDEN. 

with  its  heaps  of  abundance,  and  its  air  of 
open-handed  welcome,  Harvest  is  the  season 
which  tells  us  of  God's  hospitality. 

Besides  the  palpable  Providence,  —  the 
visible  nearness  of  a  God  most  gracious  and 
merciful, — a  material  element  in  the  joy  of 
harvest  is  the  reward  of  industry. 

If  the  sleep  of  the  labouring  man  is  sweet, 
so  is  that  labourer's  bread.  The  fields  are 
bare:  the  year's  work  is  done:  and  as  he 
nestles  among  the  sheaves,  so  glossy,  dry,  and 
fragrant;  as  he  surveys  the  golden  heap, 
fresh-sifted  on  the  threshing-floor;  as  he 
watches  the  snowy  powder  flow^ing  from 
between  the  revolving  cylinders:  as  he  sits 
down  with  his  rosy  children  to  the  household 
loaf,  that  bread  has  to  him  a  flavour  which 
no  science  can  impart, — those  sheaves  have  a 
grace  and  a  beauty  which  no  pencil  can 
reproduce,  for  no  artist  can  espy.  That 
bread  has  the  pleasant  flavour  of  personal 
industry:  that  garner  concentres  in  itself 
a  year  of  his  own  toil-worn  history.  And 
now  in  the  snug  comfort  of  his  cottage,  and 
amidst  rainy  gusts  prophetic  of  winter,  it 
calls   up  to   complacent   memory  the  frosty 


HARVEST  HOME.  139 

morning  when  by  lantern-light  he  yoked  his 
team, — the  gre}'-  and  windy  noon  when  he 
sowed  the  seed, — the  day  when  to  save  the 
tender  crop  and  the  crumbling  furrows,  he 
battled  with  the  swollen  brook  and  banked 
out  the  thunder-torrent; — the  weary  nights 
when  he  waked  so  often,  and  from  the  dripping 
eaves  and  gurgling  corbels  presaged  rotten 
shocks  or  flattened  fields :  and  now  that  all 
these  anxieties  and  toils  are  ended,  and  now 
that  the  Most  High  has  given  these  results  to 
his  labour,  he  that  went  forth  weeping  bearing 
precious  seed,  comes  again  rejoicing  bringing 
his  sheaves  with  him. 

And  the  analogy  goes  up,  and  upward  still, 
from  that  rejoicing  peasant  to  the  Christian 
parent  who  reaps  his  prayer  and  efforts  in 
the  salvation  of  his  child: — up  to  the  Christian 
patriot  who,  after  all  the  ebbs  and  flows  of 
popular  favour,  is  rewarded  with  the  extinc- 
tion of  an  evil,  or  the  reformation  of  a  realm: 
— up  to  the  missionary  who  after  a  ten-years' 
sowing,  sees  coming  in  the  first-fruits  of 
Greenland  or  Tahiti  unto  Christ : — up  to  the 
martyr  who  from  beneath  the  Heavenly  Altar 
looks  down, — Cranmer  on  his  England,  Huss 


140  EMBLEMS  FRO:iI  EDEN. 

and  Jerome  on  tlieir  Prague,  Wishart  on  his 
Scotland,  and  from  his  ashes  sees  a  mighty 
Church  upsprung  and  flourishing: — upward 
and  upward  yet  to  that  King  of  Martyrs  and 
Prince  of  Missionaries  who  from  His  thirty 
years  of  husbandry  among  the  hills  of  Galilee, 
when  His  head  was  filled  with  dew,  and  His 
locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night, — who,  from 
the  handful  of  corn  which  He  then  planted  in 
the  earth,  and  at  last  watered  with  His  blood, 
already  sees  fruit  that  shakes  like  Lebanon, 
and  who,  when  at  length  the  harvest  of  the 
earth  is  ripe  and  Heaven's  garner  has  received 
the  last  of  His  redeemed,  shall  see  the  travail 
of  His  soul  and  be  satisfied. 

But  there  are  solemn  words  in  Autumn's 
sermon.  He  says,  "  Be  not  deceived :  God  is 
not  mocked:  for  whatsoever  a  man  soweth, 
that  shall  he  also  reap.  For  he  that  so  we  th 
to  his  flesh  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption ; 
but  he  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit,  shall  of  the 
Spirit  reap  life  everlasting." 

We  see  the  earnest  even  now.  He  that 
sows  to  the  flesh, — ^lie  w^ho  spends  his  pro- 
perty or  his  talents  in  self-indulgence,  in 
idolatrous  vanities,  in  that  cruel  luxury  which 


HARVEST  IIO.AIE.  141 

is  deaf  to  tlic  cry  of  misery,  in  gratifying  tli(; 
coarser  appetites  and  passions  of  this  fallen 
nature,  —  of  the  flesh  he  reaps  corruption. 
His  harvest  is  a  heart  constantly  contracting. 
His  harvest  is  often  a  shortened  life  or  a 
shattered  intellect :  —  a  body  prematurely 
blighted  and  a  mind  that  loses  susceptibilities 
and  powers  which  once  lost  can  never  come 
again.  His  harvest  is  more  and  more  of  that 
corruption  which  he  sows, — sin  added  to  sin, 
— the  habit  of  evil  strengthened, — a  growing 
remoteness  from  virtue  and  happiness,  because 
a  growing  proneness  to  evil  and  a  growing 
powerlessness  against  temptation. 

And  he  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit,  even 
before  he  reaps  "  life  everlasting," — see  how 
rich  is  his  intermediate  recom.pense !  From 
that  dependent  spirit  of  his  and  from  those 
devotional  habits,  see  how  large  is  his  harvest 
of  peace  and  serenity !  Amidst  tumult  and 
agitation  see  how  fixed  is  his  heart,  trusting 
in  the  Lord :  and  amidst  the  flaming  shower 
of  each  day's  temptations,  burning  into  tlie 
souls  of  many,  and  leaving  dark  scars  on  the 
conscience,  see  how  on  his  panoply  of  faith 
the  sparks  die  out  unpcrceivcd  and  harmless ! 


142  EMKLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

From  that  God-fearing  spirit  of  his,  see  how 
large  is  the  harvest  of  social  respect  and 
personal  security  !  what  a  fund  of  confidence 
and  honour  has  accumulated  from  those  early 
acts  of  self-denial,  or  from  one  deed  of 
courageous  honesty  !  what  a  fortune  has  been 
founded  on  a  single  commandment  tenaciously 
remembered  and  constantly  observed !  And 
from  that  benevolent  spirit  of  his,  see  how 
large  is  his  harvest  of  love  and  gratitude ! 
What  a  music  is  in  his  name,  what  a  continual 
comfort  in  his  presence  !  See  how  all  hearts 
open  towards  his,  as  instinctively  as  they 
close  on  the  approach  of  others ;  and  see  how 
he  inherits  the  earth,  — a  meek  but  universal 
monarch  carrying  captive  the  whole  com- 
munity, and  reigning  by  love  in  souls  which 
swords  and  sceptres  fail  to  reach,  and  which 
even  genius  cannot  conquer ! 

But  this  is  only  a  faint  foreshadowing  of 
that  final  and  exhaustless  harvest  which  is  to 
follow  this  earthly  seed-time:  for  although 
salvation  is  all  of  grace,  yet,  compatibly  with 
its  entire  gratuitousness,  we  know  that  in  this 
life  He  who  gives  grace  for  grace  is  pleased 
to  acknowledge  tlie  services  of  His  believinii 


HARVEST  HOME.  143 

people,  for  the  sake  of  that  Saviour  in  whose 
strength  they  are  wrought,  and  to  whose  joy 
their  recompense  adds  ;  and  if  in  this  life? 
why  not  also  in  the  life  to  come  ?  And  in 
somewhat  the  same  sense  as  reaping  is  the 
reward  of  sowing,  we  are  taught  that  gracious 
habits,  formed  and  cherished  on  earth,  shall 
find  their  consummation  in  the  still  higher 
and  holier  products  of  eternity  —  whilst  the 
self-denial  implied  in  their  culture  will  be 
infinitely  over-balanced  and  requited  in  the 
joy-s  of  the  life  everlasting. 

Think  of  this,  you  that  are  well-nigh  weary 
of  well-doing:  —  you  that  stand  alone  in  a 
godless  household,  and  who  sometimes  grow 
disheartened  amidst  the  coldness,  and  the 
opposition,  and  the  jeering: — you  who  have 
enlisted  under  Christ's  banner,  but  w^ho,  if 
you  have  not  actually  forsaken  house  and 
lands  for  His  sake,  have  at  least  felt  con- 
strained to  let  pass  many  a  golden  opportu- 
nity : — you  who  have  been  for  years  w^atching 
for  a  soul,  if  haply  you  might  win  it,  and  who 
still  see  it  as  far  from  the  kingdom  as  ever:^ — 
you  who  have  long  been  contending  with 
a  wicked  temper  or  an  unholy  passion,  and 


H4  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

wlio  dare  not  saj  that  you  have  gained  any 
sensible  advantage  over  it — oh,  be  not  weary! 
Think  of  the  joy  of  harvest.  Think  of  the 
day  when  you  shall  rest  from  your  labours, 
and  these  works  shall  follow  you.  Think  of 
the  day,  —  the  humbling,  affecting,  over- 
whelmhig  day,  when  the  cup  of  cold  water 
will  reappear  as  an  ingredient  in  the  ever- 
lasting glory.  Be  not  weary  in  well-doing, 
for  in  due  season  you  shall  reap  if  you  faint 
not. 

Yet  be  not  deceived.  God  is  not  mocked, 
lie  tliat  soweth  to  the  flesh  shall  have  his 
harvest  also.  Darnel  grows  as  well  as  wheat, 
and  thistles  as  well  as  barley.  The  awards 
of  eternity  are  not  the  inflictions  of  arbitrary 
power,  but  they  are  the  legitimate  products, 
the  prolongations,  and  out-workings  of  the 
[>resent:  a  harvest  corresponding  to  the  seed- 
time: so  righteous,  so  congruous  under  the 
government  of  a  just  God,  so  inevitable  that 
the  sinner  feels,  if  he  does  not  confess,  that 
the  sentence  is  just.  Reader,  be  not  deceived. 
Let  not  that  day,  that  harvest-day  of  sorrow, 
come  on  you  as  a  thief — that  day  when  he 
who  showed  judgment  without  mercy  shall 


HARVEST  IIO:.IE.  145 

receive  judgment  without  mercy — that  day 
when  he  who  wrought  abomination  and  made 
a  lie  shall  find  himself  excluded  from  those 
pearly  gates  through  which  nothing  enters 
that  defileth — that  day  when  he  who  used  to 
say  to  God,  "  Depart  from  us,  we  desire  not 
the  knowledge  of  Thy  ways,"  shall  hear  God 
say  to  him,  "  Depart  from  me  ye  workers  of 
iniquity :  I  never  knew  you."*  Be  not 
deceived.  God  is  not  mocked.  This  must 
be  the  w^ay  of  it.  Sin  will  result  in  sorrow : 
carnality  will  reap  corruption.  So  entreat  of 
God  for  the  Redeemer's  sake  to  cancel  that 
guilty  past — to  exterminate  the  crop  of  guilt 
and  crime,  so  that  it  shall  not  seed  itself  in 
further  evil,  nor  be  treasured  up  as  wrath 
against  the  day  of  wrath.  Break  off  your 
sins  by  repentance,  and  from  their  fearful 
consequences  take  refuge  in  a  Saviour's  inter- 
cession. And  beg  earnestly  for  God's  good 
Spirit  that  you,  too,  taught,  led,  and  quick- 
ened by  the  Spirit,  may  of  the  Spirit  reap 
life  everlasting. 

*  Works  of  Anilrew  Fdicr,  vol.  vli.  p.  149. 


THE  AMARANTH:  OR, 
IMMORTALITY. 


When  summer  was  in  its  noon,  what  a  life 
was  on  the  lawn, — what  a  stir  was  in  tho 
trees !  But  already  that  stir  is  hushed, — 
that  life  is  dead.  Along  with  the  bees  and 
the  butterflies,  the  leaves  have  been  shaken 
from  the  boughs  and  are  entangled  among 
the  matted  grass  or  trodden  in  the  mire. 
And  as  soon  as  these  withered  waifs  began 
to  flutter  through  the  darkejiing  air,  the  birds 
of  passage  took  their  flight,  and  on  the  wings 
of  the  equinox  joy  sped  away  to  balmier 
climes. 

How  wide  the  desolation !  how  like  our 
human  history !  On  the  trunk  of  the  last 
century  there  swarmed  a  life  so  fresh  and 
verdant  that  it  felt  as  if  it  could  not  fade  • 


TIIK  AMARANTfl.  147 

tut  the  clcatli-wlnd  lias  blown  and  torn  from 
their  places  the  master-spirits  of  that  time. 
And  in  the  promenades,  and  ball-rooms,  and 
public  gardens  of  that  day,  what  a  blaze  of 
beauty, — what  a  burst  of  full-blown  fashion  ! 
Where  is  it  now  ?  Beneath  the  churchyard 
sod ;  like  heaps  of  withered  .leaves,  drifted 
into  the  fiimily  vault  or  obscurely  mingled 
with  promiscuous  clay ;  and  here  and  there 
a  tattered  survivor,  like  a  funeral  pennon, 
clinging  to  the  desolated  bough. 

The  hay-field,  the  flower-garden,  the  forest, 
—  each  is  an  emblem  of  our  death  -  doomed 
generations.  But  more  pensive  still  than 
this  simultaneous  decay  is  the  fading  of  the 
individual  flower.  You  cherished  it  in  your 
cnamoer  window.  Perhaps  an  invalid  your- 
self, you  were  glad  at  the  first  promise  of  a 
blossom.  That  bud  expanded,  and  along  with 
it  your  own  heart  seemed  to  open.  Its  exotic 
odour  brought  you  hints  of  warmer,  brighter 
regions,  and  its  petals  so  soft  anu  pufe,  sent 
up  your  thoughts  to  the  home  of  the  angels. 
But  no  morrow  saw  its  loveliness  repeated- 
Next  day  it  already  drooped,  and  a  few  day* 
more  the  glory  was  departed, —  the  withered 


148  EMBLEMS  rnOM  EDEN. 

slirub  was  carried  out  to  the  dead  flowers* 
mausoleum. 

The  friend  with  whom  you  take  sweet 
counsel, —  the  brightest  and  dearest  presence 
in  your  home, — you  yourself  are  such  a  fading 
flower.  And  there  are  times  when  the  thought 
comes  over  you  quite  agonisingly,  "  All  flesh 
is  grass,  and  the  goodliness  thereof  as  the 
flower  of  the  grass."  This  terrible  mortality  ! 
.  They  drop  on  every  side.  It  seems  as  if 
almost  every  morning  you  woke  up  to  a  world 
which  contains  a  friend  or  two  the  fewer  ; 
and  every  morning's  post,  every  daily  paper, 
is  apt  to  tell  some  goodness  that  has  passed 
away,  some  joy  whose  extinction  has  left  the 
surrounding  region  dark  and  desolate.  And 
the  mourner  is  no  less  mortal.  "  We  all  do 
fade  as  a  leaf,  and  our  iniquities,  like  the 
wind,  have  carried  us  away."  Detached 
from  the  Tree  of  Life,  behold  our  entire  gene- 
ration drifting  to  and  fro.  Ensconced  behind 
the  rock  or  lurking  in  the  cranny,  a  few  may 
escape  a  little  while ;  and  some  may  touch 
the  verge  and  be  snatched  back  again  by  the 
returning  eddy.  But  the  besom  of  Destruc- 
tion plies  its  sleepless  vans,  and  soon  or  lato 


THE  AM  AH  ANT  ri.  149 

the  last  reluctant  flatterer  is  blown  across  tho 
brink  and  disappears  in  the  great  eternity. 
It  is  appointed  unto  man  to  die  ;  and  the  re- 
prieve is  very  short.  For  with  these  mighty 
aspirations,  and  with  all  the  possibilities  of 
achievement  and  enjoyment,  what  are  three- 
score years  and  ten  ?  To  such  capacities  as 
ours, — with  a  universe  so  vast  and  with  our 
own  adaptations  so  endless, —  what  a  mere 
glimpse  of  existence  io  the  best  estate  of  man  ! 
As  the  Northumbrian  noble  said  to  King  Ed- 
win, "  When  the  king  and  his  guests  are  feast- 
ing round  the  fire  on  the  stormy  night,  feeling- 
nothing  of  the  cold  and  forgetful  of  the  wild 
winter  weather,  there  darts  through  the  hall 
a  poor  sparrow,  in  at  one  door  and  out  at  tho 
other ;  the  moment  which  the  bird  spends  in 
warmth  and  shelter  is  as  nothing  to  the  long 
time  of  the  tempest.  And  so  is  the  brief  mo- 
ment of  our  present  life  to  that  long  tract 
which  has  gone  before,  and  which  is  still  to 
come."*  And  were  this  the  whole  of  it, — 
what  a  tantalising  taste  of  the  banquet  of 
being,  —  what  a  flash  through  the  cheer- 
ful   realms    of  existence,   and    then    to    bo 

•  Ncander,  vol.  v.  p.  24. 
o2 


150  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

driven  out  into  the  blackness  of  darkness  for 
ever ! 

Profiting  by  the  season  and  its  solemnising 
influences,  let  us  raise  our  thoughts  from  the 
decay  and  the  dying  which  Nature  exhibits 
to  the  life  and  immortality  which  the  Gospel 
reveals.  Or  as  we  have  both  combined  in  that 
passage  where  St.  Peter  says,  "  Believers  are 
born  again,  not  of  corruptible  seed,  but  of  in- 
corruptible, by  the  word  of  God,  who  liveth 
and  abideth  for  ever.  For  all  flesh  is  as 
grass,  and  all  the  glory  of  man  as  the  flower 
ofgrass.  The  grass  witheretli,  and  the  flower 
thereof  fadeth  away  ;  but  the  word  of  the  Lord 
endureth  for  ever.  And  this  is  the  word  which 
by  the  Gospel  is  preaclied  unto  you," —  a  pas- 
sage in  which  the  perpetuity  of  God's  truth 
is  contrasted  with  the  transitory  state  of  man 
on  earth,  and  in  which  the  believer  of  God's 
truth  is  represented  as  a  partaker  of  God's 
immortality. 

When  God  created  man.  He  did  as  when 
He  created  angels;-  He  formed  a  creature  in- 
spired with  His  own  immortality,  and  designed 
to  live  for  ever.  But  that  creature  sinned 
and  died.     God's  beloved  Son  assumed  into 


THE  AMAKANTH.  lol 

union  with  His  Godhead  the  soul  of  man  and 
man's  body  also.  That  soul  kept  sinless  to 
the  last,  and  that  bodj  spiritualised  by  its 
transit  through  the  tomb,  He  has  carried  on 
high,  and  enthroned  in  His  own  Heaven  ;  and 
in  Himself  as  the  first-fruits,  He  shows  what 
a  redeemed  Humanity  is  capable  of  beceming 
and  enjoying.  In  that  incarnation  of.  His, 
however, — in  that  work  of  life-earning  obe- 
dience and  death -averting  expiation, —  as  well 
as  in  that  glorious  ascension, — the  Saviour 
was  not  solitary.  He  was  not  acting  on  Hij 
own  behoof.  He  was  a  Second  Adam,  repre- 
senting a  numerous  family  and  procuring  for 
them  afresh  the  gift  of  a  forfeited  immortality. 
Nor  can  words  express  how  complete  and 
copious  is  that  life  of  which  Immanuel  is  the 
great  Recoverer,  and  which  commences  in  the 
soul  when  quickened  anew  by  the  Holy  Spirit 
the  Comforter.  But  it  is  an  abundant  life : — 
a  life  in  its  amplitude  of  range  and  largeness 
of  enjoyment,  the  image  of  its  Author's  own : 
—  a  protected  life, —  a  life  really  "  insured," — 
a  life  that  can  never  more  be  forfeited, —  a 
life  identified  with  the  Saviour's  own,  and  hid 
with  Himself  in  God: — an  endless  life ;  a  life 


152  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEX. 

which  Gabriel  himself  will  not  outlive,  and 
which  derived  directly  from  the  great  "  Foun- 
tain of  Life,"  is  lasting  as  God's  eternity. 

"  All  flesh  is  grass,"  but  believers  in  Jesus 
are  no  longer  mere  "  flesh."  They  are  par- 
takers of  a  Divine  nature.  They  are  the 
children  of  an  immortal  Father, — the  chil- 
dren of  that  God  who  liveth  and  abideth 
for  ever.  "  To  as  many  as  received  the 
Saviour,  even  to  those  who  believed  on  His 
name,  He  gave  the  power  to  become  the  sons 
of  God."  And  as  long  as  their  Heavenly 
Father  lives,  they  cannot  die. 

"  The  word  of  the  Lord  endureth  for  ever." 
Our  words  come  and  go.  We  ourselves  are 
always  changing,  and  what  w^as  a  genuine 
effusion  of  our  hearts  at  one  period  of  our 
history,  may  be  no  true  index  of  our  feelings 
afterwards.  And  circumstances  vary.  We 
find  that  we  have  been  deceived  in  our  esti- 
mate of  character,  and  people  turn  out  so 
different  from  what  we  took  them  once  to  be. 
The  consequence  is,  that  many  of  our  past 
sayings  are  now  a  dead  letter  ;  and  when 
reminded  of  an  old  promise,  we  are  apt  to 
feel  that,  were  it  to  be  repeated,  we  should 


THE  A3I ARAN  TIT.  153 

not  make  that  promise  no-w.  But  tlio  gifts 
and  calling  of  God  are  without  repentance ; 
and  when  He  proclaimed  the  fullest  and 
freest  Gospel  to  our  world,  He  did  not  feel 
more  propitious  towards  sinners  of  our  race 
than  He  is  feeling  now.  To  His  all-seeing 
eye  the  end  was  known  from  the  beginning ; 
and  as  no  crime  has  evolved  so  tremendous 
as  to  modify  the  saying,  *'  The  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin,"  so  no  trans- 
gressor has  arisen  so  gigantic  as  to  limit  the 
Divine  forgiveness,  or  to  form  an  excep- 
tion in  the  Divine  and  world -embracing 
"  Whosoever."  Among  all  the  utterances  of 
the  Most  High,  and  all  the  declarations  of 
that  Faithful  Witness,  His  incarnate  Son, 
there  is  not  one  which  has  faded  into  inanity 
or  grown  a  dead  letter ;  but,  like  the  wise, 
holy,  and  Unchanging  Speaker,  each  is  a 
faithful  saying, — a  lively  oracle, — vital  with 
Divine  significance,  —  like  God  Himself,  a 
word  that  liveth  and  endureth  for  ever. 

Reader,  admit  into  your  mind  that  Gospel, 
and  it  will  fill  you  with  its  own  immortality. 
From  the  dark  grave  of  ungodliness  it  will 
raise  you  into  the  sunshine  of  God's  rccon- 


154  EMBLEMS  FROM  EDEN. 

ciled  countenance,  and  breaking  down  the 
putrid  vault  of  corruption  and  eartlilj'-mind- 
cdness,  it  will  uslier  you  into  llie  rcsurrection- 
life  of  the  new  creation, — the  pure  pleasures 
and  holy  joys  of  God's  own  children. — nay, 
into  something  of  that  beatific  life  with  which 
God's  beloved  Son  is  made  glad  for  evermore. 
And  with  the  living  God  for  your  Father, 
and  the  living  Saviour  for  your  Friend,  and 
with  the  land  of  the  living  for  your  adopted 
country  and  expected  home,  you  w^ill  verify 
those  words  of  Jesus,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection 
and  the  Life ;  whosoever  liveth  and  believcth 
in  me  shall  never  die." 

And  just  as  the  bleak  weather  sends  us 
into  our  homes,  and  makes  us  thankful  for 
the  warmth  and  shelter  we  lately  slighted,  so 
separations,  sorrow,  felt  infirmity,  will  send  us 
back  into  these  faithful  sayings,  and  will  make 
us  gladly  retreat  into  the  truth  of  the  Gospel ; 
— a  Gospel  which  has  brought  life  and  immor- 
tality to  light,  and  which  over  against  Nature*s 
death  and  desolation  reveals  an  endless  life,  a 
deathless  Saviour,  an  eternal  God. 

An  endless  life  !  In  its  ordinary  on-going 
the  hidden  life  may  be  too  languid  for  the 


THE  AilAKANTU.  155 

believer's  consciousness,  and  it  may  sometimes 
seem  ready  J;o  die.  But  where  the  faithful 
saying  is  believed  a  new  life  exists,  and  the 
more  implicitly  and  joyfully  that  Gospel  is 
embraced  the  more  abundantly  does  that  new 
life  mount  up  in  the  assured  and  exulting 
spirit,  and  manifest  itself  in  the  holy  and 
.  benignant  deportment.  And  to  not  a  few  of 
God's  people  has  it  been  granted  so  to  realise 
the  blessedness  beyond,  that  it  almost  seemed 
as  if  excess  of  life  shook  down  the  tabernacle, 
and  as  if  the  fittest  sequel  of  the  history,  and 
the  truest  epitaph  were  to  record  that  from 
that  day,  "  Dcsiit  mortalis  esse."* 

A  deathless  Saviour !  Jesus  '•  once  dead 
dieth  no  more;"  and  it  is  not  only  to  make 
intercession  for  us  that  He  ever  liveth,  but 
to  manage  and  administer  all  those  matters 
which  might  cause  our  hearts  to  be  troubled. 
You  are  going  a  long  journey,  and  you  deposit 
with  some  trusty  friend  your  most  valued 
effects,  and  if  only  he  lives,  you  know  that 
on  your  return  you  will  get  a  good  account 
of  them.     Or  the  night  is  pitchy  dark,  and 

*  The  inscription  on  Dr.  Jortin's    grave   at  Keo- 
sinston. 


\oG  EMDLEIIS  FROM  EDEN. 

you  are  stepping  from  the  slippery  bulwarks 
of  tlie  ship  on  to  the  steep  acclivity  of  the  un- 
known shore ;  and  although  between  ship  and 
shore  there  is  an  interval  and  a  black  abyss 
beneath,  the  extended  hand  which  grasps 
your  own  is  so  powerful,  and  is  accompanied 
by  a  voice  so  cordial  and  true,  that  without 
any  tremor  you  spring  forward  and  exchange 
your  heaving  barque  for  solid  land.  You  are 
going  the  way  of  all  the  earth,  and  as  there  is 
no  one  else  to  whom  you  dare  intrust  it,  in  the 
words  of  the  only  Christian  whose  dying  words 
Scripture  has  preserved,  you  cry,  "  Lord 
Jesus,  into  Thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit;" 
and  as  the  anchor  drops,  and  as  from  earthly 
life  you  step  forth  into  the  unknown  Here- 
after, you  exclaim,  "  Though  I  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  I  will  fear 
no  evil,  for  Thou  art  with  me,"  for  you  know 
whom  you  are  believing ;  the  everlasting  arms 
arc  around  you,  and  He  who  says,  "  Lo,  I  an? 
with  you,"  is  able  to  keep  you. 

** '  My  friend,  sincerely  yours  till  death,* 
The  world  no  farther  goes  ; 
Perhaps,  wliilc  *  earth  to  earth '  is  laid, 
A  tear  of  pity  flo'.vs. 


THE  AMARANTH.  157 

Be  thou,  my  Saviour,  then  my  friend, 

In  thee  my  soul  shall  trust ; 
Who  false  wilt  never  prove  in  death, 

Nor  leave  me  in  the  dust, 

"  Home  while  my  other  friends  return, 
All  solemn,  silent,  sad  ; 
^^'ith  thee  my  flesh  shall  rest  in  hope, 
And  all  my  bones  be  glad."  * 

An  eternal  God !  Yes ;  from  the  frailty 
nnil  fugacity  of  the  creature  it  is  delightful  to 
retreat  into  the  permanence  and  constancy  of 
the  unchanging  Jehovah  ;  and  how  re-assuring 
and  joyful  to  remember,  that  though  the  moun- 
tains depart,  and  the  hills  be  removed,  there 
is  a  kindness  that  will  not  depart,  and  a  cove- 
nant that  cannot  be  broken.  After  all,  muta- 
tion and  decay  are  the  exception,  not  the  rule 
— an  incident  in  the  history  of  the  universe, 
which  shall  come  to  an  end  when,  with  one 
foot  on  the  earth  and  another  on  the  sea,  a 
mighty  angel  swears,  "  There  shall  be  no 
more  Time."  It  may  be  a  mere  moment  in 
the  howling  winter-night  that  tlie  little  bird 
spends  in  the  blazing  banquet-hall ;  but  before 
that  winter  began  to  bluster  there  was  a  sum- 
*  Bishop  Home. 


158  EMBLEMS  FKOM  EDEN. 

mcr  in  the  world,  und  tlierc  will  be  again  a 
summer  when  winter  storms  have  ceased  to 
rave.  In  such  a  summer  our  earth  commenced 
its  course,  and  through  the  weary  cycle, — 
though  not  long  to  Him  with  whom  a  thou- 
sand years  arc  as  one  day, — i!  !s  revolving 
back  into  the  sunshine  of  its  Creator's  bless- 
ing. Already  the  mid-winter  of  its  grossest 
darkness,  and  its  greatest  crime,  the  murder 
of  the  Lord  of  glory, — that  blackest,  guiltiest 
hour  is  past ;  and  streaks  of  dawn  on  the  hills 
of  darkness,  and  a  few  flowers  appearing,  pro- 
mise day-break  and  a  spring ;  and  before  the 
cycle  is  complete  and  the  mystery  is  finished, 
with  fairer  scenes  than  Eden  and  one  spot  at 
least  dearer  to  God  than  Eden  ever  knew,  the 
redeemed  and  regenerate  earth  will  find  itself 
once  more  in  the  sunshine  of  its  Creator's 
countenance — a  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth 
righteousness. 

In  that  sleepless  Wisdom  and  unchanging 
Goodness  be  it  ours  to  acquiesce  and  rejoice ; 
and  if  we  quit  this  scene  with  any  prayers 
unanswered,  or  any  labours  uncompleted,  let  it 
content  us  to  know  that  the  scene  is  still  per- 
vaded by  a  Presence  which  controls  all  events 


THE  AMARANTH.  159 

for  the  best,  and  which  will  perfect  all  that 
ought  to  be  permanent.  If  events  are  not  mov- 
ing to  our  mind, — if  they  do  not  march  to  that 
short  jingle  which  we  call  harmony, — let  us 
remember  that  in  God's  great  anthem  there  are 
breaks  and  pauses,  notes  high  and  low,  and 
passages  very  mournful,  as  well  as  others  full 
of  terrible  majesty  before  we  come  to  the  tri- 
umphant outburst  of  the  conclusive  chorus. 
Meanwhile,  from  all  intermediate  frailty  or 
decay,  be  it  ours  to  retreat  into  His  society 
who  has  been  "  the  dweliing-place  of  His 
people  in  all  generations;"  and  appropriating 
the  words  of  Moses,  the  man  of  God,  let  us 
pray  in  the  spirit  of  his  most  ancient  psalm, 

•'  O  God,  our  help  in  ages  past, 
Our  hope  for  years  to  come ; 
Our  shelter  from  the  stormy  blast, 
And  our  eternal  home. 

**  Under  the  shadow  of  thy  wings, 
Still  may  we  dwell  secure ; 
Sufficient  is  thine  arm  alone. 
And  our  defence  is  sure." 


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